


Beating the Odds

by jaythegreenling



Series: Beating the Odds Series [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 58,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythegreenling/pseuds/jaythegreenling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leliana and Morrigan have never seen eye to eye. Surely comforting each other in times of need is something far from their minds. But when circumstances force them to look at each other in a new light, the feelings that erupt in both of them are equally new and frightening. Despising each other had been so much easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leliana

She was sitting quite comfortably on the small dirty patch of earth next to the strange little hole in the back of the camp. From this place she could watch her comrades going about their business perfectly...

Oghren was telling his war stories to a pack of half-drunk emissaries, spilling his ale while showing off his favourite type of attack. Leliana couldn't help but smile as his heavy body stumbled about, swinging his axe from left to right in a blaze of drunken fury.

"...ripped open their chests... ...bloody hell!"

A snicker escaped her lips. He was the funniest little man she'd ever seen. Times were tough, and she appreciated every excuse to smile once in a while.

Next to the drunken dwarfs' tent she could see Kaala, leaning heavily against the hard fabric of the makeshift housing. The lithe elf was obviously a goner. Her small hands still clasped the bottle of wine she had bought in Denerim earlier that day, but her head hung low and her mouth was wide open, obviously snoring.

Zevran and Alistair seemed to be discussing swords and wet stones, by the look of it, and Wynne obviously had already gone to bed. Though she couldn't understand how in the Maker's name the old woman could sleep, listening to all that ruckus.

It was chaotic, it was loud, and it was full of life. In the glow of the fading fire everything seemed so beautiful, magical even. Shadows danced on her companions' faces, making them look so soft and tender, betraying the fact that every single one of them was tired as hell, weary from the daily fighting.

But evenings like these made it all worth it. Once, she would've loved to join them, be in the center of it all. But lately... lately everything seemed to have changed. She couldn't exactly say when it happened, or how it had happened, but... things were different now. Her feelings were different now. Especially after what had happened with Marjolaine today, after killing her...

Her smile faded away and her arms went up to hug herself. She would never really get over that. Marjolaine was the first and only person she had loved utterly and deeply. Who she trusted without giving it a second thought. Her trust had been betrayed, her heart had been broken. Leliana pulled her legs up and hugged them, resting her head on her knees. She could feel the wet streaks running down her cheeks, but she didn't care to wipe them away. They would cease falling at some point. But right now, her body was shaking in agony, remembering times when everything had been different, remembering how happy she had once been. Forcing her to admit, even, that she hadn't been happy in a long, long time. But one day, she would learn to live with the pain, just as all the others before her had done. Alistair was a baby boy, but somehow even he was strong enough to overcome great pain. She had never known Duncan, but it was clear to her that he had been very dear to Alistair and that the Warden was hurting more than he let on.

Every single one of her companions had suffered, had lost someone, had lost their home, their livelihood, even to some extent their life. Who was she to complain about the loss of a long-gone lover?

Sighing, she rubbed her eyes and started scratching her red scalp. Her body felt like she had been beaten, which was a quite accurate feeling, remembering the amount of heavy blows that had been directed at her this afternoon. She carefully got up, trying not to tense up too much, knowing it would only sting more. She was in pain, and on top of that tired, crying always made her tired, but she knew with all the burping and laughing of Oghren, she wouldn't be able to sleep, anyway.

So she slowly went to her tent, grabbed a few linens and walked to the main entrance of the camp. She patted Kahless on her way out, revelling in the feeling of his warm dog skin beneath her trembling fingers. His intelligent eyes burnt into hers, and she almost felt like he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. The Mabari's muscular body pressed against hers, offering her a kind of comfort she had never had before. She knelt down and embraced him, clinging to him desperately. Leliana ran her fingers through his supple coat, enjoying the feeling of a living creature in her arms, so soft, so warm... She gave him a tender kiss on his head and plucked softly on his ears, while he just sat there, looking at her.

"You are a handsome dog. And so understanding."

With that, she left him to chew on his bones and headed off to the little stream that was running behind the fallen tree. Maybe taking a bath would help her settle down for the night...


	2. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan is in dire need of a bath. A bath and some amount of quiet. 'Twas not meant to be.

"Go away!"

"What in the Maker's name..."  
"Must you disturb me even now?!" Morrigan had just about had it. The "skinny boy" had come to annoy her again. Certainly the bard would bother her with senseless discussions about her precious Maker and the chantry. Why could they all not just leave her alone? Once, just this once! But no, it was obviously not enough that the Warden always disturbed her at night, wanted to talk and discuss matters that were personal. Now the boy had come to blemish even her nightly bath.  
"I wish to be alone. Your tales and questions are not welcome here." Morrigan slipped further into the water, pushing herself deeper into the darkness that surrounded the magical fire coming from her staff. Her eyes didn't leave the other woman for a second, who just stood there, watching her. Having the skinny bard watch her made her more uncomfortable than she dared admitting even to herself. So the witch tried her best to not let her feelings show. What was the rogue doing here? Had she come here on purpose, knowing that she was taking a bath? Maybe she had seen her walking off in the dark and decided to annoy her with her religious views again. Surely her arrival here was not happenstance.

Morrigan didn't know what to make of the whole situation. She *did* want the Orlesian to leave, but at the same time she was aware of the fact that she shouldn't care. As long as the boy kept her mouth shut.  
"I asked you to *go away*!" But instead of giving her a well deserved answer, all the tall woman did was drop some linens on the tree trunk next to the stream.  
"No." For a second Morrigan was at a loss for words. 'Twas infuriating how the rogue always defied her.  
"What is your meaning? You cannot truly believe that I will stay here and let you watch me while I bathe."

"Then go. I don't care." With that, the bard started shedding her clothes and slipped into the water, stark naked. Morrigan tried her hardest not to stare. But as obnoxious as the boy sometimes was, her body was a sight to behold.  
"Do you not? Do you wish for me to light a fire on top of your precious little head?" At that, the bard grimaced and disappeared completely, surfacing with her red hair tousled and covering her face.  
"Set me on fire if you wish. Or make me into a pretty ice sculpture, I most certainly don't care."  
"Aaaah, self-loathing, 'tis? Suit yourself." She turned her back to the young woman and tried to find the relaxed state she had been in earlier. But that proved hard, now that the bard was merely a few feet away. She didn't like the thought of blue eyes staring at her body. Not even if 'twas just her back. Bardish eyes should never lay eyes on her. Not after the way they had been ogling her breasts the other day. That had made her most uncomfortable, and she would not let herself be stared at again.

Her pale hand glided over the surface of the water, using her flaming weapons spell to enchant it and fill it with magical heat. A part of her had to smile at the fact that the warmth would never reach the bard, who was splashing about downstream. She would leave quickly enough. The Orlesian might be strong-willed, but she would certainly not stay in the cold water for long. When the heat started surrounding her, she finally let go and relaxed. Her arms encircled the rock in front of her, letting her body sway with the current.

After a while she couldn't help herself. She made herself turn around and look for the bard. And there she was, scrubbing at her skin with small twigs, cleaning the blood and dirt off. Morrigan could see the flushed skin of the bard, the red streaks where she had rubbed too hard and, most of all, the goosebumps covering her whole body. For an instant, her eyes slipped down to erect nipples, but she quickly forced her eyes off of them. Yes, the young woman was definitely cold, but there was none of her earlier amusement left, when she saw the forlorn look on the bard's face. She swallowed the sarcastic comment she had been about to make and simply watched the rogue wash herself. Surely her skin hurt, it was already covered with bruises and scrapes, and the relentless scrubbing would only make it worse. The witch had the sudden urge to say something, to make the young woman stop hurting herself, but she could not think of the right words, so when she finally spoke, 'twas utter nonsense.  
"'Tis cold, is it not?" Of course it was cold. She forced herself not to frown at her own words, that would only give the bard pleasure.

Blue eyes met her's, when the boy looked her in the eyes.  
"Yes." Morrigan could see the shiver that ran through the skinny body, the red flush of skin that had been exposed to the cold for too long.  
"Do not think anything of it, but if you wish, you can join me. I have warmed the water with a spell." She didn't know what possessed her to make that offer, but when the girl shyly came closer, it felt like it had been the right thing to do.

"Thank you." 'Twas a tiny whisper, but she had heard it. Even appreciated it. Normally she would enjoy lashing out at someone who was so obviously hurting, but something made her hold back her snide remarks. Maybe 'twas the red around the other woman's eyes. Had she cried? She had just killed her former lover, after all. Knowing the sentimental bard, she had probably still had feelings for the freakish woman who had done her no good.  
"You should not cry. Be glad 'tis over. She will not hurt you now." Fearful eyes looked at her, and the witch could see new tears entering the orbs. Her comment had most certainly not been the right thing to say, though she had only meant well. Maybe she should try again...  
"Your tears are misplaced here, I tell you. That woman deserved to die." The lithe form next to her slumped down and grasped onto a rock for support when heavy crying shook her whole body. Morrigan did not know what to do. She had never been in a situation such as this one. People were not something she knew very much about, after living with only her mother for so long. Still, she wanted to comfort the bard. Strangely enough.

"You will be glad 'tis over one day." Her body started inching closer of it's own accord, and suddenly she found herself right next to the boy, her hand extended, as if to stroke the battered body. Her hand trembled when she pulled it back into the saftety of her comfort zone. But the shaking that went through the rogue soon made her regret her decision, so she reached out and put a shivering hand onto a slumping form. The reaction she got was instantaneous, when thin arms embraced her and a wet head pressed itself into her abdomen, just beneath her breasts. For a second she was furious and wanted to rip the boy's head off. But that feeling was soon replaced by a strange sense of a protective instinct she had never felt before. Except for in battle...

"Do not cry. I... Everything will be alright." 'Twas a lie, of course, but what was she supposed to say? She sighed inaudibly and put her hand on the head in front of her, stroking it gently. 'Twas folly, but it made her feel strangely pleased when the arms around her held on even tighter.


	3. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana is hurting and seeks comfort where she is least likely to get it.

When the witch made it unmistakably clear that she didn't want her close, Leliana could feel tears entering the corners of her eyes. She didn't know why it hurt so badly that the raven-haired woman didn't want her here, but it did. It felt like a knife entering her heart, twisting cruelly. So she slipped into the water, concealing her true feelings with cold droplets of fresh water. When she emerged, the other woman was looking at her strangely and the bard couldn't help but say what had secretely been on her mind most of the afternoon:

"Set me on fire if you wish. Or make me into a pretty ice sculpture, I most certainly don't care." She didn't want it to sound so self-pitying, but as usual, she just couldn't handle the aloofness of the witch. The cruel words, hidden in sarcastic remarks, the underlying contempt, the look of pity and annoyance she was always giving her...

Leliana stood in the freezing cold stream for a while, watching the older woman trying to relax, feeling a slight pang of guilt at the thought of her being the disturbance that kept the Witch of the Wilds from finding a state of mental and physical relaxation. But when she saw her heating the water around herself, she pushed her guilt back down. This woman was proud and self-absorbed and wouldn't even offer her a place beside her in the warmth of her spell. The bard swallowed hard and grasped a few tiny twigs from the ground a few feet away. Then she started scrubbing herself, mindful of the scratches and bruises the fight with Marjolaine had left on her body.

She tried concentrating on washing the dirt off, but her eyes trailed back to watch the other woman of their own accord. When her eyes wandered over the pale skin of it's somewhat cruel owner, her hands grasped the twigs harder, twisting them, scratching her delicate skin with the rough ends. She hadn't intended to draw blood, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Dirt and skin and blood mixed together, when she scrubbed off the scab from older wounds. The pain that shot through her body when the wounds reopened excited her, sent a pleasant shiver over her whole body. Goosebumps started covering her skin and she was not sure whether it was because of the cold or because of the pain. One thing she was sure of, though: It was good to feel pain.

Killing Marjolaine had used up a lot of her energy reserves, physical as well as mental ones. Kaala had not noticed. The elf rarely felt sorry for the people she killed, because she usually had a very good reason. And so she expected the others to be as comfortable with getting rid of their adversaries as she was. Kahless had it easy. He was a dog. He did as Kaala bid him. And he liked it, they all knew that. The Mabari was a ferocious killer, and one of the best protectors Leliana and Morrigan could hope for when they were taken into battle. Morrigan. The bard rarely used the witch's name, but when she did, she usually came to regret it. Such were her conversations with the witch, that Leliana prefered being alone afterwards. Not to ponder over what had been said, but to collect herself again after being hurt by a snide remark. That was the rule, anyway.

Leliana sighed. There was a burning pain in her eyes because of all the crying. She had tried supressing it several times, but whenever her eyes fell upon pale skin and dark hair, the tears would rise again. There was no reason for her to feel a stabbing pain in her heart whenever she looked upon the hauntingly beautiful witch. But it was there. For a moment the Orlesian was beyond confused, until her hands started rubbing at her skin in earnest. She pressed her eyes closed, refusing to give them the pleasure of taking in sights she did not want to see. What she had felt just now couldn't be real. She had only just killed her former lover today, it was simply not possible to feel this stab of pain in this moment of time. While looking at the witch. No. No no no.

"'Tis cold, is it not?" The bard could feel a strange tingle below her skin, as if someone was watching her. When she finally forced her eyes to open again, they involuntarily locked with the bright yellow orbs just a few feet away. A shiver ran down her spine and Leliana tried hard to ignore it. Why did the witch have such an effect on her? The Orlesian had never been modest when it concerned her body, but now she had to resist the urge to cover herself. As she finally answered the somewhat pointless question, her voice was barely more than a squeak:

"Yes."

"Do not think anything of it, but if you wish, you can join me. I have warmed the water with a spell." No one had ever taught her what would be an acceptable expression of gratitude for an occasion as out of the ordinary as right now. Leliana didn't know what had possessed the witch to offer her a place next to her in the heated water, but she would surely not decline. Her heart may be skipping beats and beats, but the thought of warm water on her skin was more than she could resist. She thanked the older woman in what was hardly more than a whisper and joined her in the space between the rocks.

Being close to Morrigan was not something Leliana was used to. She had certainly made no secret of the fact that she thought the witch a beautiful creature. But it had always been playful comments, which the other woman had soon shut down. Now that she was aware of the strange attraction she was feeling, collecting her thoughts proved harder than usual. The witch would notice. She had a gift of seeing right into her, Leliana had noticed. A somber voice made her look up and when she could see the hint of pity in the eyes in front of her, new tears entered her vision. The fire-lit surroundings became blurry and surreal. Words seemed to flood over her and wash her away. A light touch on her back sent a new wave of goosebumps over her form and for once, Leliana let go of everything and submerged herself in the comfort of another body.

"Do not cry. I... Everything will be alright." Soft hands started stroking her head, playing with her hair... And for the first time in years, Leliana felt safe. Maybe she had to thank Marjolaine's death for that, as well, but the gentle touches she was receiving seemed to make everything alright again. She pulled Morrigan's body closer, locking her arms behind the witch's back, afraid she might let go. For years she had lived in fear of being found. Of being caught. But all that seemed to wash away with the current and Leliana felt strangely clean all of a sudden. A sigh escaped her lips, heartfelt and liberating. Once she closed her eyes, she could hear the strong heartbeat beating beneath fair skin and she found pleasure in the sound reverberating inside of her.


	4. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comforting the obnoxious bard had surely not been one of Morrigan's better ideas. Yet however ill conceived the sudden kindness was, it felt surprisingly natural.

Morrigan rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. Her body craved sleep and relaxation, quiet and peace. She rolled her eyes and massaged her forehead. 'Twas becoming increasingly difficult to fight off sleep, but the stupid boy was still clinging to her like a madwoman.

Normally she would not waste much time on taking a bath, but the Orlesian had made for an unexpected and somewhat unwanted distraction. Her inner clock told her that they had been here for a while now, and she could feel her spells wearing her down. Not only did she have to keep the water warm, the flame that was so diligently burning on top of her staff did drain a lot of energy, as well. 'Twas not surprising her eyelids were becoming heavier by the moment. Having the skinny boy clinging to her was not making things easier, however. Morrigan forced herself to stay calm and after imagining several painful deaths for the younger woman, she had regained at least some of her ususal composure.

She was not sure how she would get out of this situation without hurting the bard at least physically. The lithe body that clung to her was covered with water, but the witch's topside was exposed to the cold air mercilessly. She was starting to feel the cold, even though her magic had kept her from freezing so far. Slender arms had at one point locked behind her back and the witch did not know what to make of it. Bonding and helping friends in need was Kaala's prerogative. She wanted no part in it. But still, here she was, offering something akin to comfort to a woman she hardly knew, and frankly, did not care to know.

No matter the effect on her relationship with the boy, she would have to get out of the water and dry her hair, or else there might be an ice sculpture, after all. For once, she was at a loss for words. 'Twas not often that she considered her words before they came out of her mouth, but tonight, the bard had touched something inside of her that made her think before talking. She was not entirely sure whether that was a good thing, as yet. So far she had been able to keep her distance, as well in camp as in their travels. The frequent discussions the younger woman forced upon her were a nice distraction on missions, although she would never admit to that, but she had never cared whether she hurt the bard with her words or not.

"The cold is starting to bother me. I will have to get out of the water. I suggest you do the same." At first there was no reaction at all, but then she could feel eyelashes flutter against her abdomen. It was an odd sensation, one she had never felt before. A pleasant shudder ran through her body and settled between her legs, which made her gasp involuntarily. Blasted damnation! She took a few shallow breaths and tried concentrating on the matter at hand. Which proved hard enough without the light scraping of nails on her back.  
"Off you go. I want to dry myself off now." She rolled her eyes and pushed the lithe body away from her. Gently. She did not want the young woman to make another scene, after all. When she turned to exit the stream, she could see the bard shaking heavily. Bloodshot eyes were darting around aimlessly and archer's hands were trembling while they tried covering a swollen face. She had to force herself not to act on her first instinct... To hit the woman. Hard. Instead, she grasped one of the trembling hands and pulled the rogue to her feet.

No word was spoken when the two of them stepped out of the water, and Morrigan was glad about it. Once out of the cold wet stream, the witch released the spell that had warmed the water and the sudden rush of mana returning to her sent a wave of heat through her whole body. She grabbed for her staff and diminished the flame to a small torchlike size, using the returning energy to dry off her moist body. A low sigh escaped her lips when she let her free hand glide over her arms and up to her collarbone, exploring the shallow depths just beneath her throat. The light prickle sent shivers down her spine and for a few moments she actually enjoyed herself. But when a second sigh escaped her lips, she became keenly aware of the fact that she was not alone.

Withstanding the temptation to wheel around and cover herself, she cleared her throat and picked up her flimsy clothes instead. As she slipped into the all too cold fabric, she made sure not to turn her backside to the bard while bending over. Then she risked a glance over at the other woman and her heart almost stopped. Morrigan was not a sentimental person, nor was she one who would not exploit every weakness that she could find. But when she saw the drenched figure of the Orlesian sitting on the nearby log, linens carelessly thrown over a slender body, a part of her yearned for a closer look. And maybe a touch. The witch knew that this evening things had changed between the two of them, there was no point in denying it. She felt an uncommon attraction for the other woman, that much was certain. Lying to herself would not make it go away, so she might as well admit it. Her thoughts were only her own, after all. Nothing would come of it, she would make sure of that, but the memory of a naked bard would prove useful one day. Or night.

The older woman watched the rogue sitting in silence for a while, until she couldn't handle the vulnerability that was displayed to her anymore. When she walked over to stand in front of her, the wet thing didn't move a muscle. The witch had no experience with crying women whatsoever. Or people, for that matter. So she decided to do the only thing she was good at: Magic. She pulled the last of her mana out of the staff and grabbed for one of the still trembling hands, letting the energy flow into the other body. A surprised bard looked at her when she felt moist skin drying and wet hair fighting off the cold water.

"Morrigan... I..." Tears welled up in blue eyes and Morrigan couldn't help the frown that was forming on her face. Why did the bard have to ruin a perfectly good moment by talking and crying? Exasperated, she rolled her eyes several times, before she finally looked into the orbs that were desperately trying to lock onto hers.  
"Yes." Making it easy for the young one was certainly not her intention. Surely the boy would leave her alone now that she was dry. Go to bed, most likely.

Red hair waved through the air when the rogue shook her head for no apparent reason. Morrigan successfully resisted the urge to comment on it. Fighting the scowl that was forming on her face was another thing, however. So she let it drop into place, eyes blazing. Quivering lips seemed at a loss for words and the witch decided she'd had enough of the crying woman for one night. She would make sure that this was not something the bard would talk about in the future. Neither to her nor to anyone else. The folly of this awkward evening would be forgotten once the sun came up again.  
"I just wanted to..."  
"Save your sentimental gratitude for someone else, because I care not." With that, Morrigan waved her staff in the general direction of the camp and let the flame burn again.

"Best you go now, or would you rather stay here in the dark?" Her words had the desired effect, she could clearly see tears in the corners of the bard's eyes, and although she felt a pang of guilt, she knew there was no other way to keep their relationship the way it was until today. Mocking the young woman was more to her liking than offering her emotional support. She would have to remind herself of that once a similar situation would arise.

Not waiting for the hurt woman to follow her, Morrigan strutted towards the camp, never looking behind. Once she was inside, though, she casually glanced for the other woman, making sure she had been able to keep up. When the whereabouts of the bard were confirmed, she went to her part of the camp, letting out an annoyed sigh on her way over there. She had planned for a bath in the quiet of the evening, instead she had found herself cornered by her least favourite member of the group... The witch shook her head. No need to go over this evening again. It had been made clear that such a thing would not occur again, surely the bard had unterstood that. She dropped the staff in the corner and slipped out of her clothes, sitting onto the cot in her underwear. Her hands rubbed her face, trying to get rid of the tension she was still feeling. But to no avail. Shaking her head unbelievingly, Morrgan slipped under her covers, knowing full well that sleep was still hours away, even though she was tired.

As she was drifting off, she became aware of the quiet. It seemed like the rest of the group had turned in, as well. Even Oghren could not be heard... He had probably passed out snoring somewhere... A soft noise made her open her eyes again, as if waiting for something. She stared into the darkness of the night for some time until she convinced herself that it had been an animal she had heard. Her eyes closed of their own accord and her body relaxed again. Until she heard a soft voice say her name.


	5. Leliana

Morrigan's gait had a certain swagger to it, which was nice to look at. Leliana was exhausted, but her eyes denied her the wish of staying on the path in front of her. Instead, they focused on the black skirt swaying gently in the wind. A shaky breath escaped her lips when she let the events of this evening pass through her mind again. It was just too much. Maybe she would have been better off listening to the witch, when she had told her to leave. But her stubborn mind had refused to yield and so she had made a fool out of herself. Admittedly, when it came to talking with the older woman, she usually did. Most of their conversations were an excuse for the witch to make fun of her.

The moment the witch entered the camp, she seemed to relax. Leliana could see it in her shoulders, tight knots gave way to a somewhat rigid yet casual posture. The bard stopped dead in her tracks, when she walked past Kahless. His ears were twitching in his sleep and it was the cutest thing she had seen in a long time. A tiny smile tucked at her lips and Leliana stretched out her hand to ruffle his fur. It was soft and inviting, and she would have loved to curl up beside him, resting her head on his muscular chest. Shaking her head to rid herself of that idea, Leliana remembered something that had so far escaped her notice.

Her clothes... Were still down at the stream. Looking down at herself, she couldn't believe her stupidity. A quick glance made sure she was alone in camp. At least the only one awake. Even the witch had already reached her part of the camp, presumably even turned in for the night. Although she was aware that no one could see her, she still grabbed the linens tighter, covering her most private body parts carefully. The half wet, half dry linens were the only thing that covered her, but strangely enough, she didn't feel cold. It probably had something to do with the witch transferring mana into her, Leliana remembered. She sighed loudly, not knowing what to do. She could either leave her clothes near the stream and dress in one of her other garments tomorrow, or she could go back real quick and retrieve them so no one could ask unwelcome questions.

She decided on the latter and went back the way she had come.


	6. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When trying to find sleep, Morrigan is disturbed by a certain someone, keeping her from her well-earned rest.

"'Tis you. What is it now?" She refused to rub her eyes in front of the red haired woman. She might think her too tired to argue.

"Mooooooorrigaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan..." Of course. The woman was inebriated again. That had become a regular thing with her and Oghren, and the witch did not like it one bit. Now was not the first time the elf had woken her in the middle of the night, trying to force her into a discussion. The witch had tried talking her into leaving several times already, but it had all been to no avail. Once drunk, logic was no match for the small elven woman.

"Yes. Sleep on the hide, if you must. I will go to sleep now." She climbed back into her cot, slipped the thick furs over her body and pretended to sleep. Until a clumsy finger tried poking her nose and missed several times, eliciting giggling noises from it's owner.

"Warden. Why do you bother me so? Go to sleep!" The last bit had come out louder than she intended, and she hoped that none of the others had heard it. Most of all not the bard. She did not want the bard to know that the elf came to sleep here quite regularly. Why she even bothered with that track of thought was beyond her, but she knew that she did not care for the boy to find a drunken Warden sleeping beside her. The sentimental thing might get the wrong idea and see ghosts where there were none to see. Not that it mattered, of course.

"Cooooooome, Morrigaaaan... Pleeeeeeeeeeease pleease?" Her eyes rolled up, exposing the white of them to her elven friend. She breathed in several times, trying to calm herself. This day had taken all her patience already, there was nothing left to spare for the annoying woman prancing around in her shelter.  
"Tell me this instant what it is you want, you drunken fool! Or I will make you tell me, be sure of that!" The rogue stopped dancing and looked at her expectantly. Whatever was to come next, it was sure to either amuse her or make her want to snap the other woman's neck, she was fairly sure of it.

"Lelilililali... Lilly... Anna's gone." She was wide awake in an instant.  
"What is your meaning? Gone? Gone where?"  
"Nehehe, looksy a spiiideeeeeeeeeeeeer." With that, the rogue picked up a fluff of fur and started playing with it. Morrigan was ready to kill her.  
"Damned Warden, get up!" Her hands grasped the surprised elf by the neck, pulling the light body to its feet. The woman emitted a strange sound between a shriek and a squeal and before Morrigan could do anything about it, the rogue had shoved the fluff into her mouth, chewing quickly.  
"Issssss... my food! My spi-hi-hi-hi-der!" To say the witch was prepared to offer the Warden a painful death would be an understatement. It would not only be painful, but also very, very, very slow. Agonisingly slow. She would make sure of it.

"You have chosen the wrong night to try my patience, small woman. I shall make you regret your drinking." She shoved the elf to the floor, picked up her staff and poked her in the chest. Loud protesting and clumsy attempts to thrust the staff aside were met by a burst of energy that sent the rogue to sleep. Peaceful snoring replaced drunken babbling, and Morrigan took a deep breath, forcing herself not to burn the whole camp to the ground. Why should she even care that the boy was gone? 'Twas not her concern, the young woman would be perfectly capable to take care of herself. Surely she wouldn't be stupid enough to go far. And if she did, the witch hoped that her death would be quick. That was the exact amount of friendliness she could manage after today. Wish the bard a quick death. 'Twas a fate she would not wish upon many. The young rogue should be thankful.

Morrigan stared at the Warden and shook her head. This woman would one day be the death of herself. Particularly if she kept up the nightly visits. One day the witch might burn her alive, for no other reason than for being rudely awakened. She stifled a yawn and slipped one of the hides over her shoulder. She would not be gone for long, but 'twas best to stay warm. Her bare feet found the way to the front of the camp easily, all the while enjoying the soft grass beneath her.

When she reached the dog, she was surprised not to find the bard with him. But she shrugged it off and went to look into the bard's tent, which was still open. Of course there was no bard. Morrigan's annoyance seemed to climb to new levels when she realised that the boy probably wasn't inside the camp at this time. Once this horrible night was over, she would stay away from the troubling woman, but for now, she had to find the elusive redhead.

Lighting a small fire inside her hand, she walked towards the entrance of the camp yet again, surmising that the other woman had probably gone back to the stream. For whatever nonexistent reason that may be.


	7. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While looking for the clothes she forgot to take with her, Leliana is surprised by someone she had not expected to be there.

Leliana was more than exhausted. Finding her way in the darkness was hard, her eyes kept falling shut of their own accord and her feet couldn't seem to remember the simple left-right-left rule. Yawning and tired munching were interrupted by constant sighing that she couldn't seem to suppress. Tonight wasn't going according to plan. At all. She had counted on the witch being reclusive and leaving her alone. But when she had offered her a place in the warm water, everything had gone downhill. Never mind touching the older woman, losing her composure and crying like Alistair was much worse. The Witch of the Wilds would not forget that. She would make Leliana regret this night for the rest of her life, the bard was fairly certain of that.

When the rogue reached the part of the stream they all usually bathed in, even the light of the moon didn't offer much help in discerning her surroundings. She could make out the log and a dark pile of... something that was supposed to be her clothes. Leliana stumbled towards it, clumsily falling over roots and rocks until she finally reached the log and came to rest in front of it in a heap of flesh and linens. Grunting, she tried slipping into the now very cold clothes, which caused goosebumps to form on her delicate skin.

She could feel herself drifting off in the middle of getting dressed, and no matter how hard she tried to stay awake, her mental and physical exhaustion combined were more than a match for her battered will. Hey eyelids were getting heavier by the moment and her limbs seemed to have minds of their own. Heavy arms came to rest on a rough log and long legs pulled into the warmth between her body and the ground. The way her body came to rest over the log was surprisingly comfortable and before Leliana's mind succumbed to sleep, her lips curled into a tiny little smile.

Her dreams were littered with magical flames and shadows that resembled a certain witch. Leliana was floating in a fiery sea, soft touches fluttering over her naked body. Words were washing over her like waves of ice cold water.  
"...not welcome here ... self-loathing ... your perceptive powers know no bounds ... disturb me even now ... are insane ... deserved to die ... off you go ... bother me ... 'tis over ... dismal failure, best forgotten ... your precious little head ... loneliness would be preferred..."

Ambivalent feelings were filling her up, confusing her sleeping mind. A part of her enjoyed the gentle fiery touches, the sarcastic remarks, but there was also another part of her that slipped away from her, hiding in a dark corner, crying in the stillness of a watery grave.

It was then that Leliana awoke. Drowsy eyes tried making out the environment. At first, she didn't understand where she was, until her hand felt the rough bark beneath her fingers. The log. She had fallen asleep in the middle of nowhere, with no camp to protect her. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the bard grabbed for the remaining fabrics strewn across the ground, when she heard a low grumble. Shell-shocked, she froze with her hand midway in the air. Her eyes slowly wandered around in the direction of the sound, coming to rest on what was likely the largest bear she had ever seen. Its yellow eyes were menacingly bright in the glow of the moon and the lithe bard swallowed hard. She had not summoned this bear. Gulping, she reached out with her mind, trying to establish a connection with the wild animal. Normally she would only summon animals if there were foes nearby, but not having that luxury right now, she decided it was all she could do to keep the majestic animal out of the camp.

The intelligent eyes of the bear seemed to study her and even though the thought itself seemed strange to her, the look the animal gave her was one of true interest. Breathing shallowly, Leliana slowly extended her hand towards the huge creature. A wet nose greeted her cold hand, and an enormous head pressed itself into her palm, blatantly pleading for her to ruffle the dense fur. Smiling hesitantly, she obliged and let her hand wander over the supple hair, flexing her fingers to gently scratch the skin beneath. Circular eyes closed in what seemed to be pleasure and a soft tongue peeked out from beneath animal lips. The bard let herself drop onto the ground, her buttocks hitting the floor with an audible thud. She scratched the back of her head tiredly, thinking about her options. Somehow the way back to camp stretched out in her imagination and became a distance she was not prepared to travel.

Leaving the bear here might have been an option before she had stroked it, but now the animal was fixated on her and there was little she could do about it. Leliana shrugged off all reasoning and simply let her body loose, gliding down onto the forest ground. She was tired.

Her head slumped forward, hitting the ground hard. A low groan escaped her lips shortly before soft fur tickled her nose. A satisfied grin spread over her face, when she felt the large animal snuggle close, offering her the warmth of its body. The bard hid her face in the softness of the fur, breathing in the distinct smell of bear that she knew so well. It had been a long time since she had summoned a creature. Let alone a bear. Usually Kaala would ask her for a wolf...

* * *

The moment she woke up, she immediately knew something was different. Her back was still pressed against the log, saving what heat it could by hiding behind it. But where her face had snuggled into soft fur, there remained nothing but chilly morning air. The rogue opened her eyes, fully expecting to be alone. What she found instead, made her gasp aloud and cover her mouth in shock.

The witch was lying right in front of her, astonishingly beautiful and relaxed in her sleep. At first Leliana had a hard time understanding, but when she noticed the amount of bear fur scattered over the two of them, it dawned on her. Somehow the witch had found her here and decided to keep her safe in her own, somewhat incomprehensible way. Nevertheless, the bard was thankful and she couldn't help the hand that reached out to touch the peaceful face of the older woman. Morrigan's skin was as warm as it had been the day before. Her mana seemingly kept her warm even during sleep. Leliana was fascinated by the magic of the witch, though she would never admit to it. She knew that the witch thought of them all as lesser beings. Even Wynne, who was a mage, but had to live by the rules of the Chantry, which was more than the dark haired woman would ever abide.

Proud she might be, and cruel when it suited her, but there was also an unexpected tenderness in the Witch of the Wilds, that Leliana wanted to explore. She knew that Morrigan was not an evil person, but seeing through the wall of sarcasm and snide remarks was hard sometimes. Mainly because she usually was at the receiving end of the hurtful words. But still, she had come to respect the mage enormously. In fact she really liked the woman. Not only because of her beauty, but because of the softness that she kept so carefully hidden from the world. The bard had seen through that act early on and had tried to bond with the bitter witch. It had proven more than a challenge to show the lithe woman that she, too, was a human being worth her time. And her display the day before did not help her case.

Leliana sighed inaudibly and pushed a stray strand of hair out of a pale face. Such tenderness would not be welcome were the witch awake. But she couldn't resist touching the fair woman. Too long had she lived in fear of the future, in fear of the past... Killing Marjolaine had freed her in more than one way, it seemed.

It was still early and she wasn't sure how deep the mage's sleep was, but seeing as the witch had come here of her own free will last night, Leliana decided to risk the other woman's wrath just this once. She carefully pushed herself away from the log and snuggled close enough so she could rest her head on an inviting armpit. She didn't dare throw her arm around the beautiful woman, but resting right next to her, looking onto her face whenever she opened her eyes was more than enough for her. Morrigan would probably put a spell on her once she found her almost on top of her, but the thought actually made Leliana smile. She would endure whatever the witch might throw at her after waking up.

After last night, everything felt different. Spiteful and resentful Morrigan had made the mistake of letting her softer side show, and Leliana would make sure it happened again. But first she would have to get out of this situation alive.


	8. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan wakes up to something... unexpected.

When Morrigan felt a soft breeze sweeping over the tender skin of her neck, she was wide awake in an instant. She didn't dare open her eyes, for fear of what she might find. Her body sent signals to her brain nonetheless, things she could feel, which was not to her benefit, as she would soon find out. A warm and slender body was pushing her to the ground, effectively trapping her in place. The breeze she had felt was sure to be a certain woman's breath and the gentle grip on her hip felt like one of the bard's hands, holding onto her. The witch became acutely aware of the fact that she was not clothed at all and her mind started spinning. As she tentatively moved her right arm, she found it securely wrapped around the sleeping form next to her. She jerked it away, trying to ignore the sensation of loss as she angrily thrust her hand into the earth beneath.

A second breeze tickled her neck and her eyes opened and closed several times, trying to adjust to the bright daylight. She could not remember which effeminate part of her had prompted her to care where the bard had gone, or to go after her, but she decided that whichever part of her had caused her to do so, was certain to be obliterated. First she would have to clear her head, though. Lying so close to the clean smell of the young woman next to her did nothing to help her sleep-ridden mind to concentrate. Ignoring the mumbling body, Morrigan pushed it away and got up in one quick movement. Looking up at the sky she could tell it was almost midday, and even the Warden would be awake by now.

The bard was starting to wake up and as Morrigan was in no mood to discuss this -whatever this was- with the sentimental redhead, she did the only thing she could think of to prevent further discussion: She grabbed the young woman's hand and sent her into a deep sleep that would not last long. But long enough to go back to camp without the bard noticing. Groaning audibly, she shifted back into a bear again, ignoring the increasing guilt she was feeling.

The mage fell into an easy trot, making quick work of the way back to camp. Once there, she was greeted by an excited Kahless, who seemed to enjoy her bear shape more every day. She had never engaged in any of his plays as of yet, but the creature did not seem to mind. He was barking and jumping around wildly, trying to get her to play along. She cared not for such trifles, but she did want the Mabari to leave her alone, so she got up onto her hind legs and let out a loud roar that would waken even the rogue down at the stream. But instead of the desired effect, Kahless playfully lunged at her, trying to grab her throat. He would no doubt try to pull her down, but a quick smack on the back taught him elsewise. This witch was no ordinary bear, he would learn quickly enough. Kahless got up from his spot on the ground and started yelping and running around her in circles. Maybe he would not learn, after all. Morrigan decided to ignore the beast and made her way through the camp, accompanied by the intrigued babbling of Sandal and the constant barking of the filthy mongrel.

"What did you do to meeeeee?" The small elf was clasping one of the timbers of Morrigan's shelter, leaning onto it limply. Morrigan rolled her eyes. Why did the annoying rogue not leave her alone? She did have other people to talk to, other people to bother. Surely 'twas some stupid game of hers, trying to drive her mad.

Part of her took pleasure in the daunted look on Kaala's features when the witch stood on her hind legs and looked her deep in the eyes. 'Twas enjoyable, irritating the elf like this. The bear's lips parted, showing a set of slanted teeth, grinning awkwardly. But Kaala was a quick-witted little thing, and when Morrigan saw the elf's eyes squinting and the lips pull themselves into a simpering smile, all enjoyment was lost to her. She let herself drop to the ground and walked to the part of her shelter that provided the most cover from wanton looks. Then she let her mana go free and shed her fur along with her excess flesh, which both dissipated into nothing but thin air. Stretching and moaning, she flexed her human body, disregarding the curious looks she was getting from the grinning elf. Kahless however, did seem to lose interest when she changed back into her human form. He let out a disappointed yelp and left, hunting after imaginary prey.

"To answer your earlier question: I sent you to sleep, stupid elf. 'Tis obvious, no?"

"Yup. Would you care to tell me how I ...?" Tiny hands were rubbing a sweaty forehead, trying to get trid of the spell's aftereffects. The witch rarely used magic on her companions, but sometimes the end justified the means. She took no pleasure in being able to control the others to some extent, but she did not hesitate to use her powers to protect herself. Or her well-deserved peace and quiet.

"I do not." Morrigan stepped into her clothes and then started fastening the straps of her armwrap.

"Figures."

"What is it you want? 'Tis of great import, I hope?"

"No, actually I literally just woke up and wanted to know what's happened."

The witch suppressed a sigh and looked at the Warden expectantly. The elf was a nerve-racking creature, to be sure. Pulling on her pants and skirt, trying to find the right position, Morrigan hardly paid attention to the rogue who was pacing the ground in front of her fire.

"I wasn't _that_ drunk, you know! I can remember ... things." The mage let out a pff-sound and sent an unbelieving look in Kaala's direction. Of course the elf noticed.

"I do! I do remember. Yes. I totally remember." The wild gesturing and would-be seriousness of the woman made Morrigan laugh out loud. Moments later her face returned to its usual stony expression and her eyes dared the elf to tell someone, anyone, about this.

"I won't! Nooooooooooo, trust me. I'm... Yeah. Leaving. I'm leaving... I think." Questioning eyes were studying her face, coming close enought that Morrigan might call it kissing range, but then the green orbs winked at her and the elf turned around to leave.

"Am I really leaving?"

"You are." The elf turned towards her and stuck out her tongue, pulling down one of her eyelids. For a moment the witch wondered whether all elves were such childish creatures.

Morrigan let her head drop onto her fist and sat down by the fire, warming herself. They were still waiting for Alistair to recover from wounds he had sustained a few days earlier, so they would probably stay here for a few days more. The witch let out a sigh, thinking about the day before. Her behaviour confused her. She had never cared for the bard, nor had she given the other woman any reason to care for her. But her recent experiences led her to believe that the younger woman wasn't all the same to her. Some small and immaterial part of her had come to like the redhead more than she dared to admit. And it would simply not do.

Just then a hunched figure entered the camp and was greeted by Kahless, who was in need of a new playing partner. The bard bent down, patted his head and left him standing there, when she went to hide in her tent. Morrigan was oddly curious as to how much the young woman remembered and as to how she had come to lay almost on top of her... But disturbing her in her tent was not an option. Nor did it interest her that much. 'Twas merely a passing, fleeing trail of thought, it meant nothing.


	9. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After everything, Leliana is beyond confused and needs someone to talk to.

The moment she awoke, she knew she was alone. Of course. Why would the witch stay with her after all? Or maybe it had all just been a dream... Leliana's dreams often revolved around the mage these days, which was strangely arousing and frightening at the same time. On the one hand Morrigan was a very beautiful, appealing woman, but on the other hand she was a horrible and sometimes cruel dialogue partner. Still, the bard found her most intriguing and fascinating... But no more!

Leliana knew she was lying to herself, but after how things had ended with Marjolaine, she was afraid of how things would turn out with Morrigan, should she decide to pursue her. Which, as a matter of fact, she was not even sure the witch would even let her try. Shaking her head, the bard sat up, leaning against the log. By the look of it, it was almost midday already, and she should be getting back to camp. She did not want to, though. The thought of seeing the witch made her skin crawl and her heart flutter. How could she look the witch in the eye with those distracting thoughts bothering her?

She picked up a little of the stray bear fur laying on the ground and played with it for a while. It felt surprisingly soft between her fingers, so opposite of what the witch portrayed herself as. Sighing, she got up and wiped away a single tear. She would not arrive in camp crying, lest the witch would think her weak. Again. It was bad enough she had broken down the day before, no need to add to the embarrassment. Leliana picked up her linens, dressed herself properly and made for camp.

Kahless was the first to notice her arrival, his tail wiggled excitedly, and his barking could probably even be heard by the witch, who was, as always, hiding away from the others. Leliana stood still for a while, just watching the lone figure sitting by the fire. She could not fight the pain she was feeling, much less the immense need that had awoken inside of her. A need for her to hold the raven-haired beauty close. But she would not run after her, no she would not. The proud witch would have to come to her of her own accord. Leliana frowned. In a way the Witch of the Wilds had already come to her. Last night, when she had fallen asleep on the log, she had been awakened by a bear that had surely been the witch. Of course it had been the witch. The yellow eyes, the cold look... And even so, the bard was afraid she might have dreamt that part. But when her fingers remembered the soft skin of the woman, Leliana could feel herself smile and sigh. It had been the witch. For sure.

Leliana continued on her path to the tent, and when she arrived, she slipped inside, hiding from the outside world. Just this once, she wanted to be alone. Sitting down, she opened her hand, revealing what she had so carefully hidden from the dog and other curious eyes. Strands of bear fur fell onto her mat and for a while she just sat there, looking at it as if it might provide answers. It would not, of course.

She simply did not know what to do. The witch was a hard one to figure out. Most of the sarcasm and cruelty were simply a self-defence mechanism, but what defined Morrigan as a person was hard to tell sometimes. The witch had held her when she cried, cared for her, even. Had come to her in the middle of the night, and stayed there. Although she had left at one point, Leliana knew that it did say more about her as a person that she had stayed at all.

It was confusing. Maybe the mage was simply playing with her, had decided she would make an interesting subject to study human behaviour. Or Morrigan herself was confused and did not know what to do about ... this. That was actually the most probable of possibilities. The witch was not accustomed to human behaviour, and as such she would most likely not know what to do with what had happened, except to ignore it.

Scratching her forehead hard, the bard thought about how she had cried in the naked woman's arms and how she had snuggled close to the similarly naked form of her in the same night. It had felt wonderful and right. The witch had pulled the bard close in her sleep and let her hand stay on the redhead's smaller back. Leliana remembered the touch vividly. A sigh escaped her lips. She could be sitting here all day, pondering over what had happened, or she could confront the witch, which might lead to the rogue being seriously injured. Or worse. The bard emitted a 'tsk' sound and decided to stop thinking for a while. It would prove hard, with thoughts of the intricate mage only ever just beneath the surface of her consciousness, but no one had ever said it would be easy. And so far, her life hadn't been.

Outside, she found Alistair sitting by the fire, trying to cook, while Wynne stood nearby, shaking her head unbelievingly. Alistair's attempts at cooking were usually met with well-meant advice and cheerful banter, depending on who was trying to help him. This time Wynne had taken up the challenge to educate the Warden on cooking, but by the looks of it, her efforts didn't prove very successful. Leliana smiled a little awkwardly and joined Zevran in the front of the camp, deciding that it was a good a time as any to sharpen her daggers.

"Beautiful lady, what is the occasion?" His easy charm and infectious smile made her laugh despite her black mood. The small elf was always fun to be around, and Leliana enjoyed learning about traps and poisons from the talented assassin. Conversing with him made her forget the pain she was feeling. The blond had a way of talking about mundane things that mesmerized her, drew her in and made her feel comfortable. The two of them often talked about their pasts, and Zevran had been one of only two people she had told about Marjolaine.

Leliana's head went up when a memory sprang into her mind. Morrigan telling her that everything would be alright. That Marjolaine couldn't hurt her anymore. Of course, that she had wanted to kill her had been obvious. But had the witch picked up on the rogue's insinuations? Leliana couldn't help but feel a little insecure. What if the Warden or Zevran had told the witch about ... her past? The rogue couldn't help but put down the wetstone she had used and glance over at the back part of the camp, where a lone figure was sitting, reading from scrolls.

"I know that look, Leliana."

"Mh."

"What has she done this time?" The bard was looking at the assasin, trying to hide the guilty look on her face.

"What? Who?"

Zevran gave her one of his signature looks that she knew all too well. It told her that he didn't believe one word she had just said.

"You know who I mean." His smart eyes were looking at her kindly, while his lips were pulled up into a smirk. It was such an odd view that Leliana graced the elf with a lopsided grin.

"I just... You don't know what you're talking about, Zevran."

"I have had many a lover, did you forget? This body could tell you countless stories of pleasure and this man knows matters of the heart when he sees them." His tan hand reached for hers, pulling her closer.

"Do not fear, Leliana. It is only natural. Our bodies do not ache in vain for the solace of another being. Comfort must be granted, unison must be the ultimate goal, even if only for one night."

"Zev..."

"No, listen. I am a master of deception, so are you. Yet I see you before me as I would an open book. You long for her to be close, for her touch. You must confront her or you will regret it your entire life. Trust me on this, young bard. Life is never simple, but sometimes we can make it more complex than it need be."

Her head fell onto his shoulder, and tears were streaming down her face. Yet again. But instead of the wailing and sobbing when Morrigan had held her, the tears fell down quietly. Her emotional dams had broken and for the first time in a long time it felt good to cry. Every single tear liberated her a little more. And even though she couldn't put her finger on why she was crying, she felt herself becoming lighter. All the pain Marjolaine had caused, all the pain even Morrigan had caused, it was slowly leaving her, relieving her of the gigantic rock she had carried inside of her for too long.

"Do you feel better?" Leliana nodded and wrapped her arm around the short elf, holding him close. It felt good to have a friend.

"Hey Zevran! You're lame-ass advances finally working? Good on you!" Of course, Kaala being ... Kaala effectively ruined the moment.


	10. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan is not in the mood to talk... and it shows.

She desperately wanted to kill the Warden. 'Twas not bad enough the elf had to accept every menial request she could find on the boards, no, the annoying little bastard had to do it fast as well. It was all the witch could do to keep up with the running rogue. Her clothes were certainly not made for running, nor was her human body. As a wolf or horse, she enjoyed longer runs or sprints immensely, but as a human she preferred walking. Also, having the redheaded bard running behind her did not help matters, either. She just knew the young woman would be staring at her 'features' as the bard liked to say. The mage practically had to force herself not to look over her shoulder, checking on the chattering rogue.

Arriving in the Market District of Denerim, Morrigan slowed her pace deliberately, hoping the quick bard would run past her. And she did. The witch had to suppress a smile at that, forcing her face to show her usual indifference. When blue eyes darted towards her, she picked imaginary pieces of dirt off her staff, pretending not to notice the hurt on the other woman's face. She had done a well enough job of avoiding the redhead so far, but the glances the other woman threw her way were distracting nonetheless. Focusing her attention on her hands, she noticed they were shaking slightly and hoped the still staring bard would not dare notice. She could just feel the other woman's eyes on her, but she decided not to call her on it.

In the meantime the Warden was running over the Market Place with Kahless on her heels, picking pockets and chasing after cats, as well as children, like a madwoman. Morrigan refused to smile at the seemingly hilarious sight. The childish little Dalish thing did enjoy the city far too much for her taste. She rather preferred the woods and the distance it put between her and most humans. Morrigan clicked her tongue and shifted her weight onto her staff, hoping the elf would run out of steam sooner rather than later.

Her patience payed off the moment she heard the excited voice of the small woman:  
"Hey, I think I found the guy!" Kaala trotted towards the hooded figure, all the while playing with her daggers. Morrigan found the cheery mood of the Warden increasingly irritating, and she couldn't help but hope the elf would trip over a stone...  
"I... We need to talk." Stifling a growl, the witch turned towards the human rogue with a glare that would have intimidated the grittiest of soldiers, but the bard apparently refused to notice.  
"I wanted to wait, b..."  
"So you should." The witch was in no mood to talk to the young woman, much less talk to her while all kinds of people might be listening. 'Twas not that she cared about strangers listening in, but who knew what her other comrades were doing at the moment...

"But I..."  
"I see the Warden found the courier, we should make sure she does not make a mess of things again." With that, Morrigan left the bard standing there, gaping. Just as she walked up behind the elf, the hooded courier left, vanishing in the shadows.  
"Have you..."  
"Oh, come on! It was  _one_  time, let it go." The lithe elf danced about, disregarding the sceptic look thrown her way.  
"I will not. You kicked the woman in the shin, and as a result I had plates thrown at me. Plates!"  
"She was whining! I can't  _stand_  whining humans!"  
"You may do as you please, but not when I'm the one suffering the consequences!"  
"Oh come on, what's wrong, witchiiiiiiiiiiiiiie? Why so moody?" The elf poked and pinched her, clearly trying to force a reaction.

"I am not...  _moody_. I have merely had enough of your childish antics." The witch heard the light footfalls of Leliana approaching, and part of her hoped the bard would be stupid enough to try and talk to her again. She had a rather strong desire to set someone on fire right now, and the bard would surely prove to be a decent victim.

"Kaala, I have some things I need to take care of. I'll... I'll see you back at the camp." Morrigan didn't even have time to be surprised, the bard left as soon as she had spat out the words. The Orlesian rarely left the party once they were afoot, and the mage did not want to speculate why she had left them right this moment. Although she could surmise it had something to do with her being the usual distanced conversational partner. Surely, turning her back on the young woman had not failed to leave its mark on her.  
"Aaaaaaalright. Looks like you're stuck with me, witchie." The Warden grinned at her like a crazy person, but Morrigan refused to see the joke in what had just happened.

"Where are the other couriers? We might as well split up, I've had enough of running about Denerim." When Kaala only looked at her perplexed, the witch rolled her eyes and added:  
"You may even take the dog with you." When the elven rogue started bouncing happily, flames erupted beneath her feet. Blinking several times, Morrigan was surprised to find that her staff was aflame, pointing at the Warden's feet.

"Hey! What did I do  _now_?!" Pouting, the smaller woman puffed herself up, trying to appear taller than she was.  
"It is best you shut your mouth now, it seems my patience has come to an end. Give me that!" Morrigan grabbed the paper the Warden was holding, glanced at it and thrust it back at the elf's chest.

"There, you may go to your people in the Alienage and to that filthy brothel that is called the Pearl. I will find the other two couriers." With that, Morrigan rushed off, hoping the annoying little beast would not run after her, like she usually did. She had barely walked three paces when she almost tripped over the happily panting mongrel dog.  
"And take the damn beast with you!"


	11. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Isabela. With the gorgeous looks from DA2.

She had just about had enough for today. The witch refused to talk to her?  _Fine_. She could handle that. But the blatancy with which Morrigan ignored her, that stung. So she had left before she could say or do anything stupid. Now, on her way to nowhere, Leliana sighed. Denerim wasn't her favourite place to be right now, but where else was she supposed to go? Going back to camp would only result in Wynne asking her where the look on her face came from. And probably Zevran telling her she should lighten up a little. Although she liked talking to the old woman and the lively elf, she was in no mood to endure their friendliness at the moment. She would need something ... different.

Leliana quickened her steps when she realised where she was going. She needed a little distraction, someone who wouldn't care about her mood and probe her with questions. Visiting Isabela was as good as anything she could do. And the Pearl was not far off, offering drinks and other distractions. Just what she needed to take her mind off the witch. Which she desperately needed to do. She had been looking at Morrigan's behind all day, and it hadn't helped her mood one bit. Her thoughts had drifted off several times, while her mind had created images that tortured her even further. Remembering the soft hands of the witch on her head and skin had felt so good, and Leliana ached for the aloof mage to touch her again. Or to at least acknowledge her presense, which the black-haired woman had refused to do all day. Some part of her knew that the Witch of the Wilds enjoyed playing with her feelings, but she also knew that at least a small part of the witch cared for her. Or she wouldn't have stayed the night.

When she arrived at the Pearl, Isabela was sitting in front of it, kicking a seeminlgy unconscious dwarf.  
"Hey, my sweet thing. What brings you here all alone?" Isabela's intelligent eyes fixed on hers, her smile more a knowing smirk than anything else.  
"I need a drink."  
"Do you now? And here I thought you had reconsidered my offer." A blush crept up Leliana's face, warming her cheeks in a familiar fashion.  
"I... No." She walked past the Rivaini, opening the heavy wooden door slightly, hearing the laughter that erupted from inside the building. Her frown softened and she stopped in her tracks.  
"Do you want to join me for a drink?" She didn't know what possessed her to ask the dualist for her company, but she realized that she liked the idea of talking and drinking with the illustrious woman. A cheeky grin usually graced her features, and her vibrant eyes always twinkled with mischief. Leliana didn't get an answer, though. Instead of one, the brunette bent down, fumbled for the money bag of the snoring dwarf and pulled out a few silvers. The bard smiled when she observed the unusual behaviour; the pirate captain was obviously trying not to be too greedy.

"This will get you a nice prostitute, too!" Isabela got up and kicked the door open, pulling a speechless bard after her. She just didn't know what to say. The Rivaini had a way of leaving her at a loss for words, and this was not the first time.  
"Come on, sweetling, that old scut won't miss the silver, let's have some fun with it!" She shoved Leliana down at her usual table in the corner, ordering drinks for the both of them. The hard stuff, the rogue noticed. Of course. The duelist would probably want her lying under the table sooner rather than later. And the fact was, that she did not mind. Getting drunk beyond reason might lighten her mood or at least take her mind off things. Or none of the above. Usually it only made matters worse. But when you're about to drink, you drink, no matter the outcome.

"Sooo, have you two played  _'shiver me timbers'_  yet?" Leliana bit her lip and stared at the brunette wide-eyed. Apparently all the inhabitants of Thedas were in on a joke she had yet to understand.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about..." The pirate just grinned mockingly and raised her eyebrow disbelievingly. Then she downed her glass in one gulp and motioned for the bard to do the same. So the redhead drank the bitter liquor quickly, before the other woman could remark on that as well.  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." After filling their empty glasses, Isabela leant back, making herself comfortable, showing off her buxom chest in an obvious attempt to catch the bard's attention. Leliana had always found the pirate woman attractive, but she was still glad that she hadn't joined the Warden and her in bed. The elf still joked about it to the day, and refused to let the matter go. Somehow, calling her a prude Chantry sister made the elven woman giggle every single time. And, admittedly, the bard had to laugh about it, too.

At the time she hadn't known why she had declined the offer of sleeping with two beautiful women, but as she remembered the words the witch had uttered when the Warden had accepted the offer, a frown formed on her face.  
 _Rinse off the stench after you are done rolling around in the gutter..._  
The witch hadn't tried to hide her disdain, and Leliana remembered the words, as well as the look upon the face of the older woman. She had been forced to look at the disgruntled mage for a long time after that, while they were waiting for the Warden to come back. Drink had followed drink had followed drink. And the mage had just sat there and played with her staff, lighting flames and freezing candles.

Her mind drifted back to the present, noticing that everything was strangely blurred. How many drinks had she had?  
"Oh, you're back."  
"Hmpf." Leliana swallowed awkwardly, trying to focus on the blurry white form in front of her. The Rivaini laughed heartily, downing yet another glass of the dark liquid.  
"You don't drink much, do you?"  
"Nooo..." Bobbing her head several times, the bard tried to focus on the bottle in the middle of the table, watching her hand sneak closer and closer, but missing every single time, until she finally knocked the bottle over. Isabela caught the falling liquor swiftly, chuckling as she did.  
"Mh. I see. Sweetling, you're drunk."

"Ho-ow much..."  
"Let's not confuse your mind with numbers. Let's just say I'm impressed, little Chantry girl."  
"Mh. Gimme that." Her wobbly hand reached for the bottle again, this time getting a hold and pulling it towards her. Deciding it would be too hard to try and pour the booze into her glass, she lifted the bottle to her lips, hitting her teeth in the process.  
"Ouch."  
"Sweetling ... Oh never mind." The duelist got up, patted her on the shoulder and walked towards the bar, wiggling her hips as she went.

"ISABELA! Whoooo-hooo!" The voice of the Warden was so loud, it penetrated even the drunken stupor of the bard. Her head snapped up in a sudden rush of clarity. She didn't want the elf to see her like this, so she got up, trying to reach one of the back rooms so she could hide. But that proved harder than she had anticipated, the floor was moving and shaking, and the chair seemed to have a strange hold on her unusually heavy body.  
"Mmmh." Talking to the chair would not help her now. She had to get out of this room, before the notoriously curious rogue found her...

"Take care of some things, huh?" The slender face of the Dalish elf entered her sight, green eyes sparkling with delight. Leliana wanted to sink into the ground. But her hand obviously did not mind the intrusion, lifting the bottle to her lips yet again. After gulping down the last of the bitter liquid, she muttered a few insults, before her head hit the table with a distinct clonk.  
"I think she's a goner." Small elven hands ruffled her hair and warm lips kissed her neck cheekily.  
"No kidding."


	12. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan enters the Pearl. 'Tis not her kind of establishment.

After combing through several back alleys in the darker parts of Denerim, Morrigan finally found the couriers and thanked them kindly. Well... Kindly enough. Remembering the plate-throwing incident from a few weeks before, Morrigan snorted angrily. Her patience had been wearing thin for some time after that, and she might have set some peasant's cart on fire when he refused to answer their questions, but she hadn't hurt anyone. Still, she had gotten into a heated argument with the small Warden, which she was not looking forward to doing again. At least this time the Warden would have no reason to complain about her scaring someone off.

Rubbing her forehead tiredly, the witch assessed her surroundings, not sure where she wanted to go now. She actually regretted sending the elf into the Alienage and the Pearl alone, leaving her with the tedious task of rummaging through the various backstreets in search of the darned couriers. Another thing that bothered her was the fact that the Warden would probably stay in the Pearl for more than the courier. She couldn't be bothered with a drunken fool this evening, much less with a drunken horny fool. Morrigan knew Kaala visited Isabela on a regular basis when they camped close to Denerim, but somehow the elf never returned fully satisfied. The witch wasn't sure whether it had something to do with a lack of skill on Isabela's part or whether it was a curious case of elven insatiability.

Sighing heavily, the mage directed her steps toward the brothel, intent on finding the Warden and bringing her back before she had the time to utterly waste herself. Not that Morrigan cared about the elf. She cared about her nightly peace and quiet, that was all.

With the Pearl only a few alleys away, it didn't take her long to arrive at her destination. She would have recognised the rank smell of the gutter anywhere. And even if she didn't have a nose, she would never forget the look of the tottering men and women wandering the street. 'Twas most confusing that these louts were paying to hump each other. They were rolling around in the gutter anyhow, why would they pay for it? Morrigan would never understand city people. A bunch of addle-brained miscreants, doomed to leave nothing behind but a bloody spot on the ground. A malicious laugh escaped her lips, unbidden, and some of the dumb-witted creatures dared look at her a little too closely. She spooked them quick enough, one glare with her yellow eyes and the humans minded their own business again.

Frowning at the seemingly unconscious dwarf right next to the brothel's entrance, the mage pushed the heavy oaken door open and stepped into the reeky inside. When she took in her surroundings, she couldn't believe her eyes. Right at the end of the hall was a crush of people, cheering loudly, spilling mead and other liquids into every possible direction. Of course there was only one reason for the commotion. In the middle of it all sat none other than the Warden, downing one drink after the other. Rivaled only by Isabela, who sat across from her, keeping up easily. Judging by the concentrated frown on the Dalish rogue's face, it was too late to take her back to camp without having to carry her half the way. Annoyance swept over her like a tidal wave, drowning her in a sea of irritation. Resisting to snarl audibly, Morrigan swallowed her anger and just stood there, watching the drinking orgy unfurl.

Isabela was more than capable of holding her alcohol, the Warden... not so much. Morrigan had come to know Kaala's drinking habits better than she would have liked. Mainly because nine times out of ten the wasted thing ended up on her mattress, still holding the culprit in hand. One bottle of hard liquor would be enough to make her stumble and fall, sometimes it was even enough for her to pretend the blurriness of her environment was because she was wandering the Fade. As the mage remembered the sight of a drunk and scarcely dressed Warden stumbling through the camp, trying to fight off Desire Demons and Abominations with an empty bottle, she actually had to smile.

Shaking her head, her focus went back to the two stubborn women refusing to admit defeat to each other. The elf was barely keeping her head up, and she seemed to have a hard time connecting the glass with her lips. It was only a matter of time before the Warden's head would slump onto the table, but Morrigan had no notion of waiting for her. This time the Rivaini would be stuck with the Dalish woman, Morrigan would make sure of that.

Walking up towards the bar and the commotion, Morrigan noticed a very distinct whining coming from around the corner. Of course. The mongrel dog was here as well. Filthy beast. But at least the creature could walk on its own, so she had no excuse not to take it with her. Not this time, anyway.

Rounding the corner, the witch found the source of the whining crouching on the corner bench, head resting on the table; a familiar bard's head lying next to it. She rolled her eyes at the sight that greeted her and instinctively stepped a few steps back. She wasn't prepared to deal with the bard yet, not after her moronic decision to stay with the Orlesian after finding her at the stream. Some small, hidden part of her blamed the bear for her troubles; in some of her animal shapes she experienced a strange sense of protective instinct, yet up until the day before she had never acted upon it.

Motioning for the dog to get his head off the table, she finally closed the space between her and the bard, sitting down in front of her. She leant her staff against the table, instantly missing the comforting feeling of the wood beneath her fingertips. Her restless fingers started scratching the rough surface of the wooden table, while she thought about what she was doing here. Lost in thought, she just sat there for a while, biding her time.

When she found her hand buried in soft hair, fondling, she instantly stilled the moving motion, but did not draw her hand back. She let it rest there for a while, looking at the contrast between the light red hair and her pale skin. A warm feeling enveloped her when she looked at the bard, and she had the sudden urge to play with the braided part of her hair. But then a muffled sigh reached her ears and her hand jerked back of its own accord. The redheaded rogue began moving, lifting her head just slightly, squinting at the witch through heavy-lidded eyes.  
"Mmmm-mo-mo..."  
"Do not tempt me, skinny boy. My patience has come to an end." The bard's hand grabbed for hers clumsily, holding onto it even when she tried to pull it away.

When the shouting at the bar became even louder, Morrigan knew that the elf had finally lost the game. She could either pick up the bard and take her back to camp, or she could take the Warden. Grunting angrily, she got up and looked down onto the moving form of the Orlesian, desperately trying to ignore the knot in her chest when she thought about leaving her with Isabela.  
"Hey. Hey, apostate!" Biting her tongue, the witch turned around and sent the Rivaini a glare that would have frozen the damned lava in the Deep Roads. Of course, the duelist did not seem to notice. Or she just didn't care, who could tell.  
"Take her with you. She's done for, anyway." Isabela used her blue bandana to wipe some droplets of liquor from her dress, shaking her hair wildly as she did.

"Ah, so you will take care of the Warden? As you wish. But don't you dare let the drunkard leave before morning. I am in no mood to fight off any kind of lusty creature tonight."  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Captain Isabela will keep the dangerous nymph safely hidden away, don't worry. Joraaaaaaaaaaaaan!" The duelist walked towards the crowd, met up with a tower of a man and ordered him to carry the unconscious elven woman back towards the Siren's Call. Although the brunette's swagger was a little out of rhythm, Morrigan still stared after her, not surprised to see the other woman turn around and wink at her before she left.  
"Get up." The bard's eyes had been open for some time now, but the young woman had yet to move. Morrigan grabbed the chestpiece of her armor and tried pulling the limp body up, which led to the same result as her words had. Nothing happened. Of course.

The mage grabbed her staff, sent a minor bolt of lightning into the young redhead and hoped for the best. She was surprised to find the bard standing next to her, albeit shakily.  
"Hey..." The weak and scratchy voice of the bard made her smile for a moment, before she threw the rogue's arm over her shoulder and tried maneuvering her towards the brothel's entrance. The lithe woman proved to be heavier than she had anticipated, and the dog running around her did not make it any easier. Morrigan sent him ahead with a wink of her staff, almost losing her balance as she did.

"Blasted damnation. All because of the stupid Warden! Tomorrow I will HAVE HER HEAD!"  
"Shhhh..."  
"Oh, shut your mouth, skinny boy. And try to walk straight for once!" Exiting the Pearl, Morrigan breathed in the foul stench of Denerim's backstreets, grunting when she realized how long it would take her to reach the camp now that she was burdened with an almost dead weight. She  _really_ wanted to set something on fire.


	13. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana is drunk and looking for someone to cuddle...

A firm grip held onto her hip, with slender fingers pushing into the soft skin of her abdomen. Her feet and legs were unusually heavy and sluggish and when she opened her eyes, the world presented itself as a shady mix between the Fade and a dream. Which was actually the same now that she thought about it.

Leliana wanted to know where she was, but she couldn't stop the bobbing motion of her head, flopping up and down and sideways, allowing her shaky glances at the ground and sky, but none at the person holding her. She knew it had to be Morrigan, she could feel the soft leather of the mage's fingerless gloves on her abdomen, slightly scratching her tender skin. And the soft material of the other woman's top underneath the fingertips of her left hand. The bard knew she was heavily leaning onto the witch, forcing her to carry most of her weight.

Her tongue felt thick and numb when she tried to form words without success. All she managed were little grunts and groans, and she sounded pathetic even in her own ears.  
"...cam...so...ne"  
"Nature's fury, would you shut up, woman?!" The hand grabbed her side harder, pulling her flush against the other body. The world became darker and her consciousness drifted away... 

* * *

 "Enchantment? Enchantment!"  
"No Enchantment!"  
"Enchantment!"  
"I do not need Enchantment, you bootless bastard of a dwarf! Go away!" Yelling. Morrigan's yelling. A smile formed on Leliana's face as she realized where she was.

"What? What are you grinning on about, skinny boy?" The witch was pacing by the fire, a good ways out of reach for the bard. Behind the angered mage ran a smiling Sandal, offering Enchantment every few steps.  
"Enchantment!" "May thunder strike you down you little vermin! Leave me be already!"  
"Just ... go play with ... Kahl...ess."  
"Sober, are we?"  
"Mmmmmh."  
"Enchantment!"

"This ends now!" Leliana watched Morrigan lift her staff and point it at the grinning clodpole. The enchanter just stood there and eyed the witch in an interested manner. If the bard hadn't been so sick to her stomach, she might have laughed. As it was, she merely rolled onto her belly, hoping the queasiness would subside. She saw the mage move her lips and shake her staff ... without success.

"Blasted damnation! May you die a painful death one day, lyrium-addled creature that you are!" Staring at the yelling mage wide-eyed, Leliana was almost afraid for Sandal's life. Until she witnessed the mad Witch of the Wilds unceremoniously dragging him away by his clothes.  
"Enchantment!"  
"Do not tempt me, foolish creature!" Morrigan dumped the still smiling dwarf right next to Bodahn's cart, and seemed to send a small quake through the cart itself, when she practically attacked it with her staff. Bodahn stuck his head out, when the witch stomped back towards the stunned bard, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What is it you are looking at? Do not anger me, I have had my patience tried  _and_  taken!" Lifting her head proved to be a hard enough feat, but talking at the same time was a senseless endeavor.  
"... I ... mmh ... sick ..."  
"If you so much as  _think_  about spilling your guts onto my blankets, I assure you, being friends with the Warden will  _not_ save you from my wrath!" Even in her inebriated state, Leliana knew that arguing with the witch would prove to be a huge mistake. So she just nodded; slightly.

"Magnificent. Go back to sleep or whatever it was that you were doing." Morrigan strutted off towards her fire again, sitting down in front of it, warming her hands. The bard wasn't sure whether she should be happy or sad to be in the mage's shelter. Obviously, the other woman had no intention of looking after her, much less sleep next to her again, and although she should not have expected such behavior, it still hurt the Orlesian to think that the witch shunned her so. After finding out about the woman's softer side, it was hard to accept the coldness she had once been used to.

Sleeping was not an option, even though her mind was fog-ridden and confused; watching the beautiful witch sit by the fire was much more appealing. So Leliana watched. And as the mage's whole body slumped in itself, she hoped that the other woman was tired and would soon go to sleep. Here, next to her, covered by warm sheets.

But the witch did not come. She simply sat there, by the fire, throwing a log in it from time to time. The bard blinked tiredly. She would fall asleep soon, whether the woman decided to come or not. Staring at her, Leliana decided that risking the anger of the raven-haired mage would be better than falling asleep without trying. So she slowly got onto all fours and crept over to the fire, mindful to stay in the other woman's back. She didn't want her to yell at her before she had any reason to do so.

Arriving at her destination, she hesitantly put a hand on a bare shoulder, surprised by the sudden reaction she got.  
"Do not touch me!" As much as she was startled by the sudden outburst, Leliana was all the more taken by surprise when the mage didn't immediately rush off, but instead, only stood up, coming to a halt when she reached her full height.

The mage didn't move or say anything after that, and some drunken part of the bard figured it would be okay to continue her advances. The suicidal part, most like.

Reaching out again, the Orlesian put a shaky hand onto a calf covered with robust cloth. When she didn't get a reaction, Leliana took it for a sign of acceptance. She inched forward, embracing the other woman's leg; snuggling close, when all the answer she got was a sigh escaping full lips. She did not dare say anything, for fear the witch might run off or do something even worse, so the bard just sat there, by the fire, holding onto leather pants and boots as if her life depended on it. Her left hand snuck around to grasp one of the many clasps that were hanging from the skirt-like cloth the mage wore.

Trying not to talk required some determination, as her drunken mind was coming up with a hundred topics she could talk about. Her nimble fingers played with the clasp, twisting and turning it, while part of her hoped the mage would say something. Anything. The silence of it all was as confusing as it was deafening. She wished for the mage to break it, so she would not have to.

But she had no such luck, the formerly angry woman just stood there, hanging her head, looking into the fire. She didn't know how long they had been standing there, but at one point she felt all the muscles in the leg next to her go weak, and suddenly the tall woman crumpled, coming to rest almost on top of her. Morrigan's head came to rest on her arms and knees, hiding her face from Leliana efficiently.

Scooting over, the bard positioned herself behind the mage, ignoring the pang of fear inside of her at the prospect of angering the woman again. As her hand brushed the pale skin of Morrigan's back, she saw a shiver run through the lithe body, ending in a light shake of the mage's head. When she heard the witch take a shaky breath, Leliana leaned in, resting her head on barely clad shoulders, her legs coming to rest on either side of the mage. Slowly, she moved her hands, afraid the witch might still do something unexpected. When she met no resistance, she let her hands embrace the slender form of the Witch of the Wilds, holding her close without actually trapping her.

Listening for Morrigan to say something, anything, all she could make out were tiny sighs and once a few muttered words, too silent to understand.

Time seemed to stand still as she breathed in the unique scent that was Morrigan. Rich and oaky, like a soft breeze sweeping through deep dark woods. Like home. It was a scent that would be easiest described as  _warm_ , although that made little sense, even to her.

The leather and cloth the witch was clad in were surprisingly soft underneath her fingertips, and some maniacal part of her decided to explore it further. Travelling up and down the mage's arms, exploring the hard muscles of slim thighs and the hard leather straps that had always looked like belts to her. It was all so interesting, all so new, and her curiosity was still not satisfied.

"Stop touching me." This time there was hardly any menace in the woman's voice, no anger that would have forced Leliana to let go. Nothing of the sort. So the bard simply stopped moving, but held on close to the lithe frame in her arms. Talking would not do her much good, anyway. Her tongue still felt heavy and strange, and her lips had behaved better once, as well.

So she simply sat there, her arms circling the warm body and her hands itching to touch the intriguing witch, while her ears picked up the constant chatter of Sandal, talking to the dog.

"Enchantment!"


	14. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana is still drunk and Morrigan curses herself for the attraction she is feeling.

She was possessed. A demon had taken her over, 'twas a certainty. The hot throbbing that went through her body could not be her own. Much less the feebleness that seemed to have replaced her wrath. The familiar anger she was so used to had vanished into nothingness as a light touch had met her shoulder. The strange emotions that had taken over had confused and scared her, more than the thought of dying without achieving something great. She had been forced to lash out, for she did not want to seem weak. She was an independent woman, she did not need pity, nor did she need companionship, and she certainly didn't want either when coming from the bard.

But as much as her mouth had listened to her commands, her body had still betrayed her, the mangy traitor. Shivers and sighs had given her away, even as she had tried to hide the sudden rush of emotions that had surfaced from somewhere inside of her. As a result, she had endured the light touches, the tender stroking and silent exploration of her clothes without complaint. Until she had felt herself flushing, and not because of the fire burning in front of her.

When slender arms had come to a halt at her behest, she had suppressed the sound of disappointment that was forcing its way up her throat, but just barely. Now she dared not move, although a small part of her wanted the young woman to let go of her. 'Twas a tiny small part, to be honest, but who cared about such details.

Feeling the soft texture of the bard's hair tickle her back, she realized that it was an unexpectedly nice feeling to be embraced in this manner, although she would not admit to it under torture. She decided to stay like this a little longer, ignoring the possibility of demon possession for now.

* * *

"Morrigan..."

'Twas a soft and silent sound the bard had made. Sleepy, almost. The Witch of the Wilds slowly lifted her head, listening for other words that might come. But the young rogue stayed silent, and Morrigan's curiosity stayed unsatisfied. For once, she wished she had a nicer personality. A way to handle people without pushing them away at every turn. Slightly desperate to prove herself as human as the rest of them, she whispered a word into the silence of the camp:

" _Yes?_ "

"...mh ... sleepy..."

She could've died right on the spot, as bardic hands tightened their hold slightly, sending shivers down her spine. The redhead was not supposed to have such a hold on her. Nor make her gulp in anticipation and fear. Her feelings were twisted and confusing, a dreadful part of a hidden unknown.

The rogue moved her fingers, brushing over exposed skin and rough fabric. It felt most wonderful. Maybe she would enjoy this warm feeling until dawn. She could always pretend it had never happened. The bard was drunk enough, after all. She would most likely not remember a thing.

Morrigan gently pushed back, sending the almost limp bard sprawling to the ground. When she got up, her eyes roamed over the body that was laying at her feet, taking in every inch of uncovered skin and every dimple in the soft leather armor. Her hands twitched when the thought of touching a tanned abdomen crossed her mind. Taking a deep breath, she carefully lifted the helpless bard as much as she could, pulling her towards the mattress. The drunken woman seemed even heavier than before, and for a short moment the witch asked herself how in thunder's name she had carried the bard all the way through Denerim's streets.

After letting the body slip down onto the mattress, she went back to the fire, picking up her staff. She pushed it into the earth near her shelter, as she was used to keeping it close.

Stripping off her the outer layer of her clothing, she decided that the metal-laced leather armor of the redhead would simply not do. She sent her shaky hands to work, taking off the rough metal parts, leaving the bard almost naked. The smooth skin of the woman was now covered by only short pants and a very small top, barely covering the rogue's breasts. She tried not to stare and she lifted the blanket, quickly pushing the bard into the furry sheets, knowing she could not avert her gaze much longer. Slipping in after the bard, Morrigan was surprised to be met by eager arms, which encircled her the moment she pulled the covers over her shivering body.

She was lying on her back as she turned her head to look at the sleeping figure next to her. Long red lashes were skirting closed eyes, and small nasal wings moved steadily, sending warm breezes over her chest. A strange sensation took hold of her, as she watched the bard sleeping. The young woman looked more vulnerable than ever, and Morrigan was reminded of the night she had spent next to the woman, when she had been in her bear form. The same tender feeling had taken hold of her then, yet not as unwelcome as it normally was in her human form.

She knew what her problem with the young bard was, but she dared not admit it, least of all to herself. 'Twas not only attraction she felt for the rogue's slender body and perky breasts. No. 'Twas something much more frightening. Impossible, to say the least.

"Mmmh." A warm hand crept up her chest, taking hold of her neck, as fingers placed themselves under the fold of her right ear. She turned her head and placed a soft kiss on the palm of a callused hand ... jerking her head back as she realized what she had just done. Her eyes switched to the young woman, searching for any sign that she might be awake, after all. A flush crept up her cheeks, a sudden heat enveloping her body once more. Desperation filled her, as her breath became quicker and quicker, turning into a flat gasping that she could not control.

"...donmosomush..." A smile spread on the mage's face, unbidden, but she could not fight it. So unexpected and adorable were the bard's words in her ears. Sighing, she pushed her left arm under the young woman, pulling her closer when she reached the other side. Warm skin tingled underneath her fingertips, and her hand quickly developed a mind of its own, stroking the exposed skin of Leliana's soft side. Quiet mewls and murmurs came out of the bard's mouth, sending goosebumps over the sensitive skin of Morrigan's neck. "Indeed," was all she managed to say before her breath was taken away by the sheer delight engulfing her senses.

"...deed..."


	15. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning brings with it unexpected surprises...

"Morning, gorgeous." Whispered words woke her, and a pleasant feeling of belonging filled her heart. A soft hand stroked her cheek from behind, reaching over her shoulder. Leliana pushed herself back, snuggling closer to the woman she knew had to be somewhere behind her. As her back connected with two knees, she was surprised to say the least. She would not have thought that Morrigan would return at all after leaving the makeshift bed. But there she was, her kneeling figure right behind her.

"Mmmmh. Have you been up long?" The touches of the mage sent shivers through her body, and as slender fingers started playing with her lips, she sighed contentedly. She resisted the urge to take the fingers into her mouth, sucking on them in an intimate fashion. But as her head processed her thoughts, her body grew warm and wantonly desperate. Hot spikes ran through her skin, making her most intimate places throb with desire. Shifting slightly, she used her right hand to reach behind her, meeting naked thighs. Her hand explored the small knees and hairless thighs, before it stopped when it met the rough fabric of a surcoat. A chuckle escaped the mage's lips, and Leliana furrowed her brow at the unnatural sound.

She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she did. Slowly, she pulled her hand back, as a realization hit her like a thunderbolt: Morrigan didn't wear surcoats! As she turned around, a small figure jumped off the mattress, leaving her to stare after her in a bewildered fashion.  
"Kaala!" When she lunged towards the elf, Leliana didn't care about being almost naked; all she cared about was catching the elusive Warden. Annoying little prankster!

The light-footed woman was jumping around the mage's fire, gracefully evading the bard's hands and arms that were grabbing for her.  
"You foolish vixen! I  _will_  get you!" She chased the giggling Warden around the fire, stumbling over branches and rocks, but regularly coming close to catching the fleeing knife-ear.  
"Oh come on, Leliana! It was  _fuuuuuuuuunnaaaaaaaaaaay_!"  
"It most certainly was  _not_!" Faking a jump to the left, Leliana leaped over the fire headfirst, knocking the elf down in the process. Straddling the skinny Warden, she grabbed her by the throat, pushing her into the soft earth underneath. Kaala laughed heartily, even though it sounded a little choked. Green eyes sparkled with mischief, and the human bard pushed even harder, trying to force the joy from the elven face.  
"You actually think this is funny, Kaala? It's  _not_ funny!"

A single tear escaped Leliana's eyes and dropped onto a leather breastplate, sending droplets flying. The Warden's laughter died as quickly as it had come, and concern replaced the amused look on the elven face. Kaala lifted her right hand to stroke the bard's face, brushing her knuckles over flushed cheeks, petting a strong thigh with her other hand.  
"I'm sorry, Leliana." She nodded, hiding her reddening eyes from the elf.  
"I didn't mean anything by it. Okay, gorgeous?"  
"Mh-hm." Leaning down, the bard rested her head on the ground, right next to the Warden's.  
"I know, Kaala, I'm just..."  
"Yeah," elven hands slipped to her head, comforting her by fondling her hair.  
"Yeah, I know."

Leliana breathed in the earthy smell of the soft ground, remembering the way Morrigan had smelled when she had held her in her arms.  
"I love her." It felt so good to finally have it out in the open, to admit it to someone. Even if that someone was Kaala. Cheeky, brazen, loving Kaala.  
"I know, honey, I know." The two of them stayed in that position for a while, mainly because the bard refused to get off the smaller rogue. She just enjoyed the comfort she was getting too much to let it go entirely. So she snuggled closer, forgetting her surroundings. After a time she asked the question that had been on her mind since she woke up to find Kaala sitting behind her:  
"Where is she?"  
"I think she's off to the creek, I heard her yelling at Alistair earlier."  
"Alistair? How do you..."  
"Oh. She caught him staring once. He swore it was by accident, but you know Morrigan."  
"Mh. I also know Alistair."  
"Hehehe."

When she heard a gasp, Leliana's head snapped up, looking for its origin. What she saw left a permanent imprint in her mind, so powerful was the image she saw.

Morrigan, staff in hand, hurt plainly written on her face. Leliana's heart broke.

"No! Wait..."


	16. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan isn't jealous. No. Morrigan? Neveeeer.

"No! Wait..."

Morrigan stormed towards the exit of the camp, desperately trying to ignore the unfamiliar pain that spread through her chest. Her heart pounded angrily, hurting her ribs in the effort to compensate for the immense pain she had felt when she had seen the half-dressed bard straddling and hugging the Warden. The two lithe figures had looked so intimate, lying there in the dirt of Morrigan's camp fire. The pain that made her think her heart might burst any moment now felt surreal in every way. Who was she to feel hurt at the sight of those two? She was the Witch of the Wilds, matters of the heart held no meaning for her.

"Morrigan!" The bard was running after her, her shouts alerting the whole camp to what was going on. Morrigan wanted to kill her. Delivering a slow, painful death might just make her feel better. Her hands formed into fists, lightning bolts shooting from the spaces between her fingers. It took an enormous amount of effort to keep her magic in check, and the yelling of the bard didn't make it any easier.

When she felt the running woman getting too close, she turned around, aiming her lightning towards the bard. Her magic scorched the ground in front of the young woman, and Morrigan reveled in the sudden rush of power that filled her, when said woman yelped in surprise. A lopsided grin spread over her lips while her eyes glared at the rogue, hoping to force a reaction. Of course it worked.  
"Morrigan, stop it! It's not what y..." 'Twas too much. She needed to be alone. The unfamiliar twinge in her chest sent shivers down her spine and she could feel the muscles in her calves twitching. Her whole body felt like it was filled with lightning, the bolts threatening to come out and shock everything and everyone around her.

"Morrigan!  _Stop_!" She did not. Leaving the camp behind, she rushed towards the only place she had ever felt safe and secure. As soon as she heard the water purling over the rocks and stones she felt her anger subsiding, even although she could hear light footsteps approaching her. The bard had at least had the sense to stop yelling, but the redhead proved persistent in her pursuit of the witch. She would have to put an end to that. Focusing her mana on the ground, she created a glyph of repulsion, knowing the bard would not be able to see it. Smiling, she sat down on the trunk next to her stream, turning her back toward the silent footsteps.

The moment she heard the splash of a body hitting the surface of the stream, a gleeful smile appeared on her face.  
"Pffffff. What did you do that for?!" The unmistakable sound of the bard spluttering water and thrashing about in the cold wet filled her ears, and her fingers played with the rough bark of the trunk. She would not make this any easier for the bard.  
"I did nothing, skinny boy. Nothing at all." 'Twas infuriating. Knowing the woman was close, having to listen to her futile attempts to apologize and explain. Worse even, to have to listen to her complain about  _her_  behavior!  
"Morrigan, listen..."  
"I'm done listening, you stupid fool!" She got up from her seat and turned around to the sight of the most disheveled creature she had ever seen. The skinny redhead was still only clad in what she had worn the day before, short linen pants and a flimsy top. Both of it was drenched, as well as the short hair that curled every time it got wet. The young woman looked adorable. Morrigan frowned at the thought. She was angry at the bard, why did her mind drift off to such nonsense?

"Morrigan..." The bard inched closer, mindful not to come too close this time. The thrust of the glyph had obviously taken more than the air from her lungs. This time the rogue kept a safe distance between the witch and her, and Morrigan was thankful for that.  
"Be quiet, you foolish thing." She involuntarily shoved her chin forward and turned her head sideways, knowing full well that she presented the perfect portrayal of a pout. Standing here, behind the trunk, the Orlesian on the other side, she felt strangely exposed, even although she was the one fully clothed and standing safely behind a natural barrier. Yet her hands were shaking and her skin started tingling when her eyes met the blue ones of the bard.  
"Mor..."  
"I said  _shut up_!" She felt herself starting to shake, and tried to force herself to calm down. 'Twas all so confusing! She did not like the bard, why would she feel such major pain when looking at her now? Why would her heart start stuttering when she imagined soft arms embracing her? And why would she imagine something like that at all?

"Morrigan. Just ... let me explain."  
"No, there's..." Her glyph weakened, she could feel it. Soon the bard would be able to approach her, to...  
"Morr..." And there the bard went, droplets falling from her arms, which were outstretched just slightly in front of her. The lithe Orlesian frame crept closer and closer to her and she did not know what to do about it. Her fingers twitched with lightning again, and she desperately needed release. Her fists felt like they were about to burst, and when the obnoxious bard dared stepping over the tree trunk, she let go and sent jolts of pure energy into the lifeless object. The rogue had sidestepped her predictable move elegantly, and was now coming to a stop right in front of her. Slender hands reached for her sparkling ones, and when she felt the energy surge through both of their bodies, she was lost for a moment.

"Oh." The bard stepped back a few paces, but did not let go the mage's hands.  
"I ... let go of me ... please." Morrigan pulled her hands away and hid them behind her back, ignoring the longing sensation her skin sent to her heart.  
"No, wait. It's not what you think."  
"Why would I care? You presume to know me all of a sudden?"  
"I..."  
"I thought as much."

When she made to walk away, the bard's soft hands reached for her bare arm, holding her back.  
"Stop walking away from me!" She was twirled around and was barely able to find her footing before suddenly the redhead's mouth was on her own, soft and moist, tender and forceful. Morrigan's eyes closed of their own accord and a tiny whimper escaped her surprised lips. A cold hand crept up to her face and cupped it tenderly, while the other one pulled her body flush against the clammy surface of its inhabitant. She was lost. Her mouth parted slightly, and their lips danced together like they had never done anything else. She felt the familiar power of her lightning flowing through her and entering the bard, sending impulses of energy through both their bodies and making the two of them moan in pleasure.

"Hm." Coming up for air, the rogue rested her head against hers, bardic pink lips slightly open. Shallow breaths escaped her mouth and tickled Morrigan's lower lip, forcing her to lick away the curious sensation. Her tongue probed out to comfort her lip and met the softness of the bard's mouth in doing so. She reveled in the feeling, before she pulled her tongue back and looked deeply into sky blue eyes.  
"We were just being silly, there's nothing going on betw..."  
"Shut up." And this time she leaned in, pressing her lips onto the startled mouth of the bard, who elicited an adorable squeal when the mage's hands finally grabbed her and held her close. Morrigan couldn't believe she was starting to pant, but when she did, a smooth tongue entered her mouth, forcing every logical thought to leave her mind.

"I can't ... shut up..." Sighing, Morrigan grabbed the wet hair of the rogue and brought their lips together for another fierce kiss.  
"Then I will make you."


	17. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when they thought they were alone, the two ladies are interrupted by a snapping branch.

The instant her legs bumped against the broken tree trunk, she fell backwards and hit the ground; the witch on top of her, devouring her mouth. She gasped for breath, but all she breathed in was the mage's intoxicating scent that sent her mind reeling. Her moist fingers slipped into Morrigan's hair, pulling at the bun rather roughly, sending black hair spilling over their faces.

Leliana's legs came off the trunk when Morrigan's shimmying let the witch slip between them. Leliana's bare legs wrapped around the warm body on top of her, encircling the leather clad waist of the older woman, effectively pulling her even closer.  
"Mmmm..." The mage's moan sent shivers down her spine, and her left hand slipped down to caress the bare arm of the woman on top of her, feeling goose bumps covering the pale skin. Her busy mouth spread into a smile, eliciting light laughter. This was perfection. Trailing hands, hot breathing, groping, licking and fluttering hearts...

A branch snapped.

Leliana's head snapped into the direction of the sound, but to no avail. All she could see was Morrigan, as the mage was effectively blocking her view.  
"What was th..." A hand cupped her mouth, and Leliana was forced to stay quiet while she watched the other woman look around. She let her hands wander to the front of the witch, pushing her off of her gently. She listened to the sounds surrounding them, but other than the stream the redhead could hear nothing. Leliana's forehead creased in concentration and confusion. At this time of day she should hear birds and other animals, but there was nothing. Before the bard could point out the obvious stillness of the forest, Morrigan leapt to her feet, a carnal roar escaping her lungs while her body started growing fur and her limbs changed shape in a whirl of magic fog.

"What the..." The bard had never seen the witch transform into an animal; somehow the witch had always managed to do it in the midst of battle, when Leliana's focus was on her enemy, or in the secrecy of her part of the camp, before the party had even headed out. But this time, the young woman watched the distinctly female body of the mage transform into a furred animal, shedding clothes in the process, uncovering soft skin, which was rapidly growing grey-golden hair all over.

The wolf growled loudly, just as three hurlocks appeared at the edge of the forest.

Leliana swallowed. Hard. She was anything but clad for battle, and every single of her weapons was still at camp because she had run after Morrigan without thinking of anything but the witch. Her eyes went to the animal at her feet, and her hand tentatively reached out to brush the raised fur on the wolf's neck.  
A snarl and glaring yellow eyes made her pull her hand back in confusion. The wolf's chaps were pulled back in a display of anger, and Leliana immediately regretted her decision to touch the magnificent animal in her search for comfort.

Blue eyes went back to the forest edge, where the hurlocks had been moments ago. Now they were running toward them, swinging scimitars and falchions in a wild fashion. They would reach them soon. Leliana thanked the Maker for not giving these beasts bows as well. She silently steeled herself for battle; there was no hesitation when she squared off, preparing to lunge at the hurlock who was swinging the falchion. Her thoughts were interrupted when enormous paws landed on her chest, pushing her back towards camp. Yellow eyes bored into hers, and the scrunched up muzzle of the animal told her everything she needed to know about the current mindset of the mage. Nonetheless, she had no intention of arguing at this point, so she decided she would ignore the glare the unnatural eyes sent her way and deal with the consequences of her actions at a later time. Preparing herself to get her throat ripped open, she grabbed the wolf by the abundant fur on its chest.  
"No. No! I'm not leaving you here!" She ignored the growling and snarling of the huge wolf, shoved the heavy paws off her chest and raced to the stream, where she grabbed one of the fist-sized rocks and ran towards the darkspawn, the wolf hot on her heels.

She had barely run a few paces when a golden brown figure raced past her, dodged the clumsy sideward strike of a scimitar and pressed through the legs of the hurlock, causing it to topple over, exposing its neck to the sharp fangs of the wolf. Leliana barely had time to be amazed by the grace with which the witch was moving in her new shape, as the hurlock carrying the falchion moved towards her with intent.  
She sidestepped its first downward strike, which put her in a perfect position in front of the beast. Her rock-armed hand snapped forward and caught the hurlock on its ugly nose, sending tainted blood through the air. The stinking creature did not seem to care much, though, as its falchion immediately changed direction for a diagonal slash towards her. Her body flexed to the side, and the sharp blade swished past her, sending shivers down her spine when she felt the movement of the sword on her wet skin. Too close.

She let herself drop to the ground and kicked the solid hurlock in the groin, sending it flying backwards, supported by the momentum of its upward thrust. Its legs went flailing, and a strange sound escaped its throat when it hit the ground with a thud. She lunged after it, grabbed its sword hand and pushed the blunt side of the falchion against its neck, hoping to choke the beast to death.  
But the darkspawn refused to die. Its massive hands reached up to push against the blade, which left her with only one of two possibilities: To grab the sharp edge of the blade and push back or to back down and attack the creature again.

She was not about to back down. Her right hand crept up to reach for the sword, when her whole body started to convulse in pain, twitching uncontrollably. Her teeth pressed together, and the veins and muscles of her neck popped out, she could feel them pulsating rapidly. The pain was starting to blur her vision, but she could still make out a figure coming closer, a fireball flickering above an outstretched hand.  
Leliana wanted to move, but her legs were still twitching, the muscles in her arms were convulsing, and her whole body felt like someone had given her a real beating.

The warmth of a fire crept closer, and at first the rogue was glad for it, but when she realized that the hurlock next to her was aflame, her mind was on the verge of panicking. "Do not play dumb. I have no intention of letting you die. Not yet, anyway." Morrigan's form came into view, naked as the day she was born. Her strong hand grabbed Leliana by the foot and pulled her away from the burning carcass. Earth and grass and stones scraped over her skin, collecting under the backside of her short top. Leliana sighed. At least some part of control had returned to her.

"What did you do to me?" She shot an accusatory look in the general direction of the mage, who was busy getting back into her clothes.  
"'Twas a minor shock. You should be thankful. I saved your life."  
"I was doing fine until you interfered!"  
"Is that so? Did you not intend to have your fingers cut off on the edge of the sword?" "I... No..."

"I suspected as much. I was about to be proven right again. You were about to perform yet another utterly stupid feat, as you are prone to do."  
"I was not about to... I've never..."  
"Be quiet. Or I will make you stay quiet." The redhead gulped. She knew Morrigan was in no mood to argue. It was a wonder Leliana had gotten away with a simple shock so far.

When her fingers started to tingle, she moved tentatively, but every movement hurt, so she let her head drop back onto the ground and just watched her eyesight adjust again. The curvaceous body moved gracefully, while the witch covered it with fabrics. Layer upon layer of leather and rough spun wool. Leliana's eyes focused on the yet uncovered parts of the marvelous body, and a small sigh escaped her lips, which did not go unnoticed by the older woman.  
"Stop it with your lingering looks, boy." The redhead's gaze dropped, and she busied herself with plucking stray grass from her body, trying to rid herself of the grass and dirt she was covered in.

The bard sat quietly for a while, ignoring the movements of the other woman. Her eyes went to the fires burning on the grass just a few feet away. The one closest was the hurlock she... no, Morrigan had killed.  
A flush crept up her cheeks, when she realized that she had been no help at all. Morrigan herself had killed three darkspawn, without even putting forth an effort. The young woman gulped audibly. She should have known that the Witch of the Wilds could handle herself. She should have left when the witch had wanted her to.

"Listen, I..."  
"You do not get to talk at this time." The mage made no move to turn around, as she was busy slipping into her soft silken top, throwing the part that held it up over her neck, so she could arrange it in the front.  
"But Morr..." Her hands were still fumbling with the fabric when Leliana spoke again, and for a moment the bard wondered why the pale hands were shaking like that.  
"If you want to keep your limbs, shut your bardic trap."  
"Look, I..." In an instant, the witch was in front of her, grabbing her chin forcefully, so the bard had to look up into wildly burning eyes.

"You listen to me now, and you listen well." The hand that was holding her face trembled noticeably, but Leliana didn't dare comment on it. " _This_  is nothing.  _You_  mean nothing to me. I did what I did to protect our camp, but if you  _ever_  get in my way like that again, you will suffer the consequences, as I will not hesitate to cast a deadly spell to protect our companions!" The bard's head was pushed back hard, and she could feel bruises form where the mage's fingers had pushed into her skin.

The older woman straightened up and flattened her clothing, before she made off towards the camp.  
"You don't mean that." Leliana stood and wiped a single tear off her face, yelling after the black haired woman.

"You don't mean that!" She let herself drop to the ground again, staring at the still burning fires.

"I know you don't."


	18. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaala helps Morrigan realize something she already knew.

She knew she was trudging back to camp rather inelegantly, but she could not help it. The blasted bard had managed to ruin her day twice already. First she had decided to rub Morrigan's nose in the jealousy she was obviously feeling and then she had gone ahead and ignored an order, just because she felt like it. She had just about had enough of the boy.

The liquid filling her eyes told a different story, however. The ignorant little boy had forced her to open up to some extent, only to make her retreat behind her walls again shortly after. And why would she not? The object of her annoyance was perfectly aware of the consequences her actions would have. But still, she chose to ignore the witch's warnings and start meddling in affairs that did not concern her. Morrigan would have been able to deal with the ugly creatures on her own, but no, the heroic mindset of the other woman had not allowed her to retreat to safety...

A particular angry stomp sent a small quake ahead of her and the mage made a mental note to soft-pedal her anger. Surely the Warden didn't want her to let the camp collapse into an abyss of darkness.

A minor sigh escaped the raven-haired woman's lips. There was a small part inside of her that was tired of being angry all the time... But as she thought about the stupidity of the redhead, the small part was being pushed down and ignored.

"Morrigan!" Preparing to send a fireball flying, the witch turned around, fire in hand. A surprised elf looked at her expectantly.  
"Hey. If you want to set something on fire, be my guest. Just as long as you don't ruin my new armor." Exhaling slowly, the Witch of the Wilds turned towards the back part of the camp, extinguishing the fire in a newly formed fist.  
"What's up?" Of course. Of course the Warden would follow her. Annoyingly curious that she was.

When she glanced to the side to meet expectant green eyes, she almost burst. Why did these women have such a hold on her and her feelings?  
"What did she do this time?"  
"She refused to go back to camp." Her voice came in a monotone, and she could not help but notice it. When she reached her shelter, she was glad for the distraction she would find here.

"Aaaaand?"  
"No and. She refused to listen to the voice of logic, as she is prone to do. She has proven this flaw on numerous occasions, usually with your assistance." Morrigan crouched down in front of her scrolls, starting to sort them by type.  
"There's something you're not telling me. What is it?" Glancing around, the mage noticed the vacated tents.  
"Where are the others?"  
"Shopping in Denerim. What are you not telling me?"  
"Why did you not go with them?" She did not know why she was asking this. For she certainly did not want an answer. Knowing the elven rogue...  
"I wanted to make sure you two were okay first." ...she would say something that made Morrigan regret asking.  
"I am well. As is the bard."

Surely the small woman had picked up on the particulars of her phrasing, but she was at a point where she did no longer care. All the Orlesian had caused her so far was pain. She did not want to subject herself to more of it.

Suddenly she was roughly being pulled up by the back of her top, and pushed to the ground rather unceremoniously.  
"You will tell me what happened, stupid bitch! I've just about had it with your antics and your constant self-pity!" Morrigan felt her eyes almost pop out of their sockets at the rogue's unusually aggravated behaviour. Her mouth dropped of its own accord as she stared at the furious woman who was standing over her.

"Wonderful. Now that I've got your attention, we can talk." She wanted to kill the elf.

Kaala sat down next to her and an apple appeared out of nowhere. Munching on it, the lithe woman looked at her expectantly. How she could stand this beast-turned-elf, Morrigan did not know. Nonetheless, she started talking.

* * *

_"Would you have reacted the way you did if it had been me with you there?"_

**...**

_"No, you wouldn't have."_

* * *

 

Morrigan thought about Kaala's words. The elven rogue was an exceptional woman. If anyone else had talked to her like that, she would have burned them on the spot. But instead of doing that, she had opened up. Yet again. She had opened up in the past, about her mother. And now... about the boy...

Without a doubt the elf thought her weak. She did not say so, not once, but... there was this nagging voice inside of her, telling her she was weak for baring her heart like that. Shaking her head, she physically brushed the thoughts aside.

Kaala had left for Denerim quite some time ago, so now Morrigan was alone in the camp, as even Bodhan and Sandal had left to get supplies. Supplies they would no doubt sell at double their cost, but who cared. The elf was in charge of their gold, anyway.

Morrigan had started cooking with the ingredients the Warden had given her, letting the stew cook, hanging from rack over a moderate flame. Time had passed quickly during her preparations, but the bard still had not returned. The Witch of the Wilds refused to admit that she was worried, for admitting that would make her weak. Still, she did want for the Orlesian to return, if only to burn her alive. Or something of the sort...

In the midst of her musings, she saw a lanky figure enter the camp, blue eyes focused in the direction of Morrigan's shelter. The witch smiled inadvertently. So the bard's first thought back in camp had been of her.  
When the younger woman raised a brow and turned towards the middle of the camp, where the witch was sitting, her smile faltered, however. The redhead's face was the picture of insecurity, her stance and fidgeting depicting the same. The mage slowly got up, grabbing the rack, using it to steady herself, glad that she had something to hold on to.

They just stood there, seemingly miles apart, just looking at each other.

Morrigan's eyes raked over the bruised body of the red-haired woman, knowing that some of the marks were thanks to her. She watched the bard's face redden, knowing the Orlesian was uncomfortable, but she did not want to make things easier for her. Not yet.

She knew she had reacted badly, and she knew her words had most probably cut deep wounds into the soul of the redhead, but alas, she could not forgive the ignorance with which the rogue had run off into battle. The young woman did not have any magic to protect herself, nor any weapon. Morrigan's lips quivered at the thought of losing the rogue because of her stupidity. She flexed her hands into fists, only to open them again, close them, open them... She could not stop. The human simply enraged her more than she wanted to admit.

"You are alive, I see." At the venom in her voice, the bard pulled back physically, and the witch could see the doubt in blue eyes even at this distance. For a moment she thought the redhead might flee the scene, but then something changed, and blue orbs transformed into ones of steel.  
"I am." With that, the young woman stormed off towards Morrigan's shelter. The witch stared at her bewildered, until she realized that the rogue's clothes were still lying somewhere in her sleeping area.

She glanced at the cooking stew, lowered the flame and slowly followed the stomping woman. Her yellow eyes could not help but gaze at the sinewy legs of the young bard, fascinated by the strength they portrayed.  
When she arrived at her shelter, the redhead was already halfway covered with armor, and Morrigan felt ashamed to admit that she regretted the sight of the rogue covering herself.

"What are you staring at, Morrigan? The time for gloating is over." Black eyebrows went up.  
"I did not gloat." Blue eyes glared at her, furious with pent up anger and frustration.  
"You did not... That is rich!" The young redhead approached her, while still fastening one of the straps on her armor.  
"You..." A strong hand sprung forward, jabbing her in the chest, vigorously shoving her backwards.  
"You..."

"At a loss for words, my dear?"  
"Don't mock me." "Should I not? I saved your life mere hours ago; it seems to me I have every right to mock you."  
"Don't tempt me, witch. You will regret it." Snorting contemptuously soon proved to be a mistake.

Morrigan found herself in much the same position as Kaala had earlier. The lithe rogue was sitting on her hip, forcing her arms down with one hand.  
"You're such an infuriating beast sometimes!" The beautiful face of the young human was mere inches from her own, and for the first time the witch looked at the bard's features. Really looked.

Blue eyes were hiding deep in their sockets, the flesh around them was reddened and swollen, and bruises were covering parts of the jaw line. Morrigan's lips twitched in a yet unfamiliar feeling of regret. An iron grip seemed to take hold of her heart, as she looked at the vulnerable yet strong woman on top of her. 'Twas a strange sensation. An unknown longing coursed through her, and she wanted nothing more than to embrace the young woman and hold her close.

She felt the need to explain. To make the anguish in the blue eyes dissipate. However, she did not know how. Her hands were trapped, she could not move, and the bard refused to look at her directly, hiding behind the falling curtain of her hair. All she had were her words. And her lips.

She chose the latter.


	19. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan and Leliana can't figure out what "this" is...

Leliana stared into nothingness, trying hard not to look the struggling woman beneath her in the eyes. She could not figure this woman out. The actions of the stubborn mage were confusing and misleading, not to mention painful. She wanted her heart to stop longing for this beast, for this malicious  _woman_. In the corner of her eye she could see the witch watching her. The intense look the older woman was sending her way made her squirm, just enough to send her mind reeling. Eyes bright as the sun threatened to look into her and expose her deepest, darkest desires.

The bard licked her lips. The smooth leather and silk of the mage's clothes rubbed along the insides of her thighs as she tried to make herself more comfortable. It didn't work. The soft up and down of the woman's breathing she could now feel below her did nothing to erase her uneasiness. Leliana felt her throat closing up, and she would not have been able to explain why. The presence of the warm body did things to her she hadn't predicted when she had hooked her leg around the mage's calves to throw her to the ground.

Now her red hair tickled the raven-haired woman's nose and cheeks, and for a moment she asked herself why she was leaning so low, why she was holding the pale hands so close to her, why her heart started fluttering the moment she felt a familiar head moving closer. At first she thought maybe the witch wanted to get a good look at her pained expression, or maybe continue staring at her until she broke down in tears because of the hurtful things the older woman had said earlier.

But when yellow eyes fixated on her, and red lips moved ever closer, Leliana flinched back.  
"What do you think you're doing?" For the first time in what felt like ages, the witch looked surprised.  
"I intended to kiss you."  
"You…  _what_?" Morrigan started squirming in her grasp, trying to free her hands. The Orlesian tightened the grip her left hand had on the thin wrists of the witch, not wanting to give in.  
"'Tis not what you wanted? Did your fingers not slip underneath my clothes mere hours ago? Did you not hunger for my kiss and my touch? Did you…"

_Smack_.

Leliana stared at the angry red stain spreading rapidly over the mage's left cheek, where a quick slap had resounded just moments ago. Part of her wanted to apologize, wanted to make sure that she hadn't hurt the witch. But when she replayed the moment they had shared at the stream and heard the venom in the husky voice, her features grew firm. She did not care. The Witch of the Wilds deserved nothing less. She stared down into golden eyes, her brows furrowed, her nostrils flared.

What she saw in the wolf-like orbs surprised her. There was no anger. No arrogance. The eyes of the beautiful mage told a story of a different kind. Unexpectedly so. The redhead's tongue felt dry and sticky, and she gulped several times, just to distract herself from what she was seeing in the other woman's eyes. Regret. The mighty witch felt regret. Slender eyebrows were pulled up and a frown dominated the usually so stoic face, which was still turned to the side, away from her. Leliana felt a strange twinge in her heart as she looked upon the expressive face below her. She wanted Morrigan to say something. Anything.

The bard knew it was wrong, when she felt her hand loosen its grip and subsequently let go of the hands completely. She looked at the leather clad wrists, at the slim fingers twitching slightly to restore the blood flow. Before she could pull her hand away, it was grabbed and held in place by cold hands. A tiny gasp escaped Leliana's lips before she could control herself. The head of the witch turned around at the sound, and regretful eyes locked with her own, before they fluttered shut.

When they opened again, the Witch of the Wilds had a strange look in her eyes, something the bard would have described as vulnerable, had she written a song about it. Full lips opened, as if to say something, but nothing came out. The rogue watched the lips' hesitant movement, the forming of syllables too silent to hear. She watched the fluttering eyelids and the rapidly breathing nostrils. She watched the witch search for words for a long time. Finally, she took pity on the woman beneath her and put her right index finger over lush lips, stilling their movement.

"You're scared." It was not a question, and the moment the words were out of her mouth, Leliana knew them to be true. At first, the witch looked at her surprised, but then she suddenly turned her head to the side, hiding her face behind her fringe. A strong hand followed her movement, and, getting a hold of her chin, turned the woman back around to face the compassionate look in bardic eyes. Leliana felt a sigh building up underneath her, and she smiled when it arrived at the mage's lips. Morrigan shot her a confused look, but then opened her mouth to speak:  
"I have no experience with this."  
"With what?" Yellow eyes darted away, staring into thin air.

"This." The mage's hands held Leliana's left more firmly and led it down towards her chest, letting them all rest on top of her abdomen. Bardic eyes stared at tangled fingers for a moment, taking in the sight of freckle-covered skin mixed with pale white. When she glanced back at the witch, she saw a flicker of uncertainty, just for a moment. Her hand pressed the ones of the raven-haired beauty in what she hoped would be a reassuring way.  
"And what is  _this_?" Again eyes darted away, but Leliana knew she would be getting an answer. She knew.

"I do not know. But I feel myself wanting it." Blue eyes narrowed, and a frown started framing the bard's features.  
"You said this is  _nothing_."

The mage gulped audibly, which made Leliana slightly uncomfortable, knowing she was the reason for the obvious discomfort. Still, she refused to give in. She needed to know.  
"'Tis true. I said something of the sort."  
"No, you said exactly that. You said I mean nothing to you."  
"I was angered." Tears threatened to enter her eyes, but the rogue pushed them down, knowing she could not back down now, knowing she could not be weak.  
"Why?" She heard her voice break in the most disturbing way possible, and just prayed to the Maker that the pale woman wouldn't comment on it.

"You infuriate me. Your actions…" While waiting for the mage to continue, freckle-covered hands started playing with the other woman's fingers, just slightly stroking them.  
"Go on." Yellow eyes darted away, when a light flush crept over white cheeks. Then, almost too quietly to hear, the witch uttered a few words, barely able to speak coherently:  
"I might have been concerned for your wellbeing." A smile spread over Leliana's face, knowing full well that the Witch of the Wilds would under no circumstances admit this if it weren't true. Her stroking hands pressed Morrigan's fingers, thankful for her honesty. Silence settled in between them, an as of yet unknown understanding of each other creeping its way into their hearts. Leliana did not know what possessed her to move, but her fingers slowly crept upwards, away from the mage's torso, to the pale skin of a tender neck.

She saw wolf-like eyes close in what she hoped was enjoyment, when her digits roamed over porcelain skin and nails scraped over a protruding clavicle. Her breath hitched slightly, when she saw goosebumps forming on the woman's chest and arms. For the first time since throwing the mage to the ground, Leliana felt her own body consciously. Her core felt hot and in desperate need of a cooling bath, while her limbs seemed to be draining of all heat. She shifted a little, trying to get some blood back into her numb legs, but all she managed to do was to dig deeper into the confusingly tangled web of leather straps covering the witch beneath her. Her center brushed over a slightly harder part, and the sensation almost sent her tumbling over.

She realized that her armor had ridden up somewhat, allowing her center to flawlessly connect with the raw leather straps, only separated by the flimsy material of her short pants. The muscles in her legs contracted, and she knew the witch could feel them press against her. So she tried sliding away, averting the curious eyes awaiting her.

Her awkward movement did not escape the calmly breathing woman below. An eyebrow rose sharply, and the gaze that was sent her way sent shivers down her spine and a noticeable blush to her cheeks.

Whatever she was expecting the witch to say or do, she was utterly surprised, if not to say shocked, by what really happened:  
"'Twas such a foolish thing to do!" Sparkling orbs stared into hers, a perfect portrayal of anger and confusion. The slight shake of a raven-haired head softened the glare somewhat, but full lips still curled with resentment. Leliana gulped hard. Her voice was a ragged whisper, barely audible, when she forced herself to ask for an explanation.  
"What was?"


	20. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment alone, with passionate kisses.

Morrigan felt the bard squirm on top of her. The situation had changed faster than she could have predicted it would. Baring herself like she had done just now, that had not been her intention. But her mouth and body had become traitors. She had no idea what had made her admit all these things, but when soft hands touched hers, pressed them and then wandered upwards towards her neck, most of her consciousness seemed to just fade away. As did her eyesight. The warmth emanating from the woman on top of her had sent goosebumps all over her chest, and that fact obviously hadn't escaped the younger woman. The mage heard the silent gasp that escaped the other woman's lung, and opened her eyes again, finding the innocent face above her flushed with unbridled desire when a slender hip fidgeted again, trying to find a more comfortable position.

The Witch of the Wilds felt her body grow hot in want, but she refused to let this weakness be seen. So she stayed perfectly calm, all the while watching different emotions cross the face of the young bard. She would not make this easier on the pesky boy, no she would not. Opening up had made her unexpectedly vulnerable, and she did not care for this feeling at all. So when pink cheeks flushed in an even darker shade, she said:

"'Twas such a foolish thing to do!"  
She knew the effect this would have on the bard, and she could not help but relish in the confusion and anxiousness that clouded the redhead's voice.  
"What was?"

For a moment, Morrigan lost track of what she was thinking, when the bardic face above her became incredibly more vulnerable, and an as of yet unknown part inside of her wanted to cup flushed cheeks and reassure the young woman. What she had wanted to say, what she had planned on doing, that intent died the moment her eyes locked with sky-blue orbs, and all she managed to say was…

"This." And then her body betrayed her again, as she untangled her hands from the bard's and pushed herself into a sitting position, with the bard straddling her. The sudden change of position rattled the Orlesian, and freckled hands landed on her shoulders, trying to hold onto the only thing that would support her weight. A jolt went through Morrigan's body when sharp nails dug into her skin, while her arms went around the lithe frame in front of her, keeping it steady.

"Morrigan…"  
"Shhh, just let me…" She did not know what she was doing. Pink lips had entered her vision, and all the witch could think about was how they would feel between hers, how it would feel to nibble on them and suck on them; leaning forward, the brunette brushed her lips over the quivering mouth of the rogue, all the while trying to make sense of everything, although she knew she would not be able to do so.

This thing between them, this thing between her and the bard, between her and Leliana, it was pointless and could only lead to heartbreak and despair, but right now, in this moment, it was all she wanted. And the soft body beneath her hands did not help matters. Her pale hands had come to rest on the small of the young woman's back, where her armor exposed the tender skin of her back. She let her hands explore the impeccable texture of female skin, and let her hands linger on the hem of the lower part of the rogue's armor.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, as she let her tongue play with the lips in front of her, whose owner did nothing but gasp and close her eyes in response. It was only when she bit the Orlesian's lower lip, that the young woman started moving, nails digging deeper into Morrigan's skin, as firm hands pulled her body closer. The redhead seemed to have awoken from her stupor, as she wasted no time in letting her hands roam over the mage's body, exploring the velvety fabric of Morrigan's clothing.

When the witch felt her breasts being explored by curious digits, she smiled into the heated kiss she shared with the bard, moaning in delight as her nipple was massaged between a thumb and forefinger.

"Mmmmm…" The moment Morrigan felt the young redhead moan into her mouth, her hands stopped exploring and her tongue stilled its movements. This was not what she had planned on doing when she had followed the Orlesian to her part of the camp.  
"Wha…" Also, a talking bard was not what she wanted at this time. She much preferred the gasps and moans, as words were not needed at this point anymore. This was not what she had planned, not originally, and she most certainly had not wanted to talk about her feelings. Now she had done both, and she would have to deal with these decisions at a later point, but right now, she cared not for emotional discussions.

With a sudden movement that made the rogue gasp, the witch turned them both around, so she came to lie on top of the young woman, slender legs on either side of her hips. Leliana's cheeks were a bright crimson by now, and her pupils had dilated in an obvious display of desire. The mage smiled. This was how she preferred things. Under her control. This situation would not escape her grasp again. She would decide how this would go, and no one else.

Pale fingers trailed down to a tanned abdomen, where Morrigan took her time to explore the ridges of tense abs, before she felt herself losing control in the most unexpected way. Strong hands had grasped her by the hair, pulling her down towards invitingly parted lips. As she realized this, she pressed her hands hard against the stomach they were resting on, trying to keep herself out of reach of those deliciously red lips. But she proved too slow, and her mouth came to a halt mere inches away from the bard's. Soft breath brushed against the sensitive skin of her mouth, and the witch could not help but lick them to make the strange sensation go away.

"Kiss me." It was not a request. The brunette's eyes fluttered shut as she heard the underlying command in the Orlesian's voice. She did not want to give in, however, so she focused all her energy into pushing herself further away from the intoxicating figure beneath her.  
_"Kiss me._ " A shiver ran down her spine. She did not know where the bard had found the confidence she was displaying all of a sudden, but she could not deny the way her body responded to the command. The firm grip on her hair did not subside, and when freckled hands tugged at her in obvious annoyance, the Witch of the Wilds gave in and let her lips be enveloped by a velvety soft mouth.

Part of her tried to make sense of it all, tried to resist the hold the young woman -the skinny boy- had on her, but it was all brushed aside by a primal need for closeness. A growl wound its way up her throat, and when it escaped, Morrigan felt lost. She had never let anyone make her lose control, yet this creature beneath her had managed to do what no man had done before. The Orlesian had torn down her walls and entered her stronghold equipped with nothing more than a few words and a vulnerable nature.

And suddenly all conscious thought left her mind, as a tongue entered her mouth and groping hands found her backside. A moan escaped her mouth, yet again unbidden and unwanted, but it was there, and the younger woman seemed to enjoy it, as she squeezed Morrigan's backside through the leathers she was wearing. The witch felt the rough material of the rogue's armor press into her breasts, as the redhead pulled her more firmly against her, but instead of trying to ignore the pain, the mage took advantage of it and let it wash over her, which forced her nipples into tight knobs of flesh that scraped over hard armor, protected only by a thin layer of fabric. Another growl escaped her, feral and full of want. Her jaw clenched and she bit into the lower lip of the bard with enough force to draw blood.

A yelp escaped the young woman, but her hold on the witch did not wane. If anything, the lean hands in her leathers gripped her even tighter. So the bard did not mind a little bit of pain. 'Twas good to know. The brunette's hands went to Leliana's sides, trying to open the leather straps holding her armor in place. When the straps did not move, however, the witch made quick work of them with a magically enforced pulling move, which ripped half of the straps into pieces.

"Morr…" The older woman silenced the Orlesian's protests with another fierce kiss, while her hands wasted no time in getting under the bothering front armor. Metal and leather were pushed aside to expose heated flesh and small breasts covered by a flimsy top. A violent rip got rid of that, as well, and the moment Morrigan could feel nipples straining against her palms, she broke their kiss and slid down the bard's body, until her cheek brushed over an aching nub.

A whimper escaped the archer's lungs, when full red lips enveloped the small nub and sucked on it roughly. The Witch of the Wilds enjoyed the way the tanned body beneath her squirmed and shivered, and when a particularly arousing moan made its way to the surface, she slipped her hand between the skinny woman's quivering thighs. She expected them to part for her willingly, but when strong limbs nearly crushed her hand between them, she halted her movement, albeit unwillingly.

"Is this not what you wa…"  
" _Shhhh!_ "

Yellow eyes formed into slits, as the redhead shoved her face away from inviting breasts. This day did not go according to plan at all. Her annoyance manifested quicker than she would have thought.

"What is it this time, you chicken-hearted beast?"  
" _Shhhh, don't you hear_?"  
"Hear what, you stupi…" When a hand clasped over her mouth, the witch heard. She heard all too clearly. And all of a sudden she was torn between ducking deeper, to hide in the shade of her shelter or getting up, as fast as she only could. The girl beneath her -for in this moment she seemed to be a girl all over again- shifted slightly, her eyes wide in fear. 'Twas this sight that made the decision an easy one…


	21. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana refuses to believe what everyone is thinking...

The bard could feel her lips trembling in fear. The mage had been too distracted to notice, but somehow, the young rogue had heard it. Smelled it, even. It was here.

"Stay here." The witch was whispering against her hand now, apparently she had finally realized that Leliana was not being coy, but honestly afraid. She wanted to protest, she wanted to resist, but before she could open her mouth, she felt her body relax against her will. Her hand started shaking and then fell heavily onto her chest, slipping further until it hit the ground next to her. The rogue's eyes widened in horror, as she realized what Morrigan was about to do. Her eyelids were soon becoming heavy and her lips felt numb and sluggish; the words she was trying to form only left her mouth as scrambled sounds, before her eyes finally fell closed. Darkness embraced her, and the last thing she heard were a few spoken words, which sounded a lot like "Forgive me".

* * *

"…ana… …she be? …Mo… …either…"  
"…no… …to fi… …seen her?" Yelling. Words. Sentences. None of it was making any sense. Her head felt like someone had clubbed her with a morning star, and it was hard to fight off the haze that enveloped her senses. Everything she heard seemed far away and muffled, as if someone was talking through a cloth.

"Enchantment!" The sudden loud noise shook Leliana to the core. Her eyes snapped open, and she was blinded by the radiant light of the evening sun. She brought her hand up to cover her eyes, clumsily hitting herself in the face while doing so.  
"Enchantment!" An energetic dwarf was the last thing the rogue wanted at this point. Also, the volume did nothing to ease the dull pain in her head.

When she finally opened her eyes again, she found herself lying on the ground, Sandal standing next to her, holding up a blanket, which was still covering the lower half of her body. The lower… Leliana gasped loudly, when she realized she was naked from the waist up. Gradually, she remembered what had happened earlier this day, and while trying to hide herself from Sandal, who was still standing there, holding the blanket, she awkwardly put on her ripped top and tried to fasten her breastplate somehow. Half the straps on her sides were either gone or too broken to be fixed just now.  
"Enchantment!"

Before she could even roll her eyes, the yelling she had previously heard became much clearer, when the voice's occupant came closer and closer.  
"Sandal! What are you yelling about?!" An angry Kaala stormed Morrigan's shelter, only to stop dead when Leliana gaped at her from the ground.  
"Thank the Creators, you're alive!" The bard just stared at the elf dumbfounded, while the small woman took her in her arms, kissing her face in what seemed to be relief.

"I'm so glad you're alright! Where's Morrigan?" In her effort to hide the state of her attire, Leliana didn't listen to the lithe woman who was still invading her personal space. She tried to hide behind the blanket Sandal was still holding up, awkwardly bending her body sideways, while pretending to listen to what Kaala was saying. She let the elven woman talk for a while, hoping to adjust the straps on her armor without noticing. One of the straps was proving especially stubborn, as it had ripped directly at the breastplate.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Wide-eyed, Leliana stared at the yelling rogue. She had rarely seen the usually joyful woman so angry.  
"I…"  
"Where. Is. Morrigan?!"  
That was the moment Leliana remembered. Heavy footsteps, angry snorting, the sound of something enormous prying about the camp. When the noises had become louder, she had recognized the unmistakable sound of snapping bones in the distance. Morrigan had heard them, too. And then…

Then she must have passed out. Or…

A scowl formed on her face, as it dawned on her what had happened. Fear for the witch and rage mixed together inside of her, forming an angry knot in her stomach that made her get up in mere moments.  
"Let me…" Her body was slow to respond, so she staggered past Kaala and Sandal, ignoring the glances she received when her breastplate developed a mind of its own, exposing half her chest. Leliana didn't mind. She did not. All she cared about was the witch. The stupid, selfish, annoying… wonderful witch.  _Stupid woman._  Stupid, stupid woman, why had she cast a spell on her, sent her to sleep? Why…?

The redhead stumbled out in the open, gulping when she was greeted by a scowling Wynne and a stern looking Zevran. That fact alone was odd and demanded attention, but her thoughts went to the mage who was nowhere to be seen.  
"Where is she…," she muttered under her breath, "…where is she…," as she fell to her knees, looking at the chaos that had once been their camp. Kaala followed, hard on her heels. A small elven hand came to rest on Leliana's shoulder, offering what little comfort the friendly gesture could.

Coming to her senses bit by bit, the rogue noticed the stench of burning grass and flesh for the first time. The smell of fabric, aflame. Their tents, gone. Parts of them still burning, ashes flowing through the air, covering everything in their path.

"Where…"  
"We don't know. We were hoping the two of you were down by the stream."  
"No, we…" Her voice broke, then.  
"No, we were… she was… Morrigan…?"  
"We don't know, love."

Getting back to her feet, the lanky woman examined what was left of their camp.  _Their home._  Her lips started to tremble when she reached the center of the camp. Her tent. All of her things. Gone. Even…  
"No! Nooo!" Leliana rushed towards what was left of her tent, ignored the mumbled words of her companions, shoved away Kaala's hand when the elf reached for her and clumsily made her way through the still smoking rubble.

She burned her hand on hot wood several times, got tangled in smoldering cloth and just when she was about to give up, her hand brushed against something square. Hissing, the bard pulled her hand back, only to reach for the object with her other hand. It burned. It hurt. But she didn't care. The box was here. Her precious box.

"You stepped in there for a box.  _You stepped in there for a box?!_ " The Warden's voice was incredulous, as was her face. Green eyes stared at her unbelievingly, confused, to say the least, but at the same time, the gesture of her hand prevented the old witch from joining in. Wynne looked annoyed, but not as shocked as the other companions.

"I'm too drunk for this. You're all behaving like crazy nugs!" Oghren underlined his meaning by pointing at Shale, who was busy keeping Sandal away from her crystals, Kaala, who had her hand flush against Wynne's lips to keep her from talking, Alistair, who was busy keeping his bandage away from the flames and smoking embers and failing miserably…

Leliana gulped. The drunkard was right. Oh so right.  
"We need to find Morrigan."  
In response, Zevran pointed to the bones on the ground. Glances were exchanged; none of them daring to say what was going through their heads. The bard used that time to fasten the straps on her armour, covering herself up best she could.

"Leli…"  
"No."  
"What if…"  
"NO. No, she is not dead. She can't be dead. I will not stand here and mourn her. No!"  
Finally covered again, Leliana grabbed the box and went towards the camp's entrance.

"Leliana! Where are you going?" For the first time, Alistair spoke up, surprising everyone around him:  
"Where will you go? It's not safe, there's a dragon out there!"  
"I don't care!"


	22. The Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half a year later, in the Frostback Mountains...

Leliana hadn't been the same in the last half year. Ever since the witch had disappeared, left nothing behind but a burned camp and a sleeping bard, the Orlesian had lost all of her usual joy and lightheartedness. She even preferred to set up her tent away from the others, on the edge, as Morrigan had been known to do.

While thinking about the past, Kaala watched as the bard was sharpening her weapons, two enchanted scimitars, courtesy of Sandal. The young woman had let her hair grow out, and her bangs were falling into her face, hiding dead blue eyes.

"Do you think she'll ever be the same?" Zevran stood next to her, a little too close for comfort, but today, she wouldn't complain. He was the only one she could find comfort with these days. Alistair was sweet, and he kept making advances, but she would never be able to give him what he wanted. Zevran was easy. He didn't expect anything from her but a warm bedroll.

"Not if we don't find her."  
"You know we won't. She's dead. You saw the bones…" An angry glare cut his words off as well as any punch would have.  
"BONES. We saw bones. Not human bones, we saw bits and pieces and flesh …and parts we couldn't even identify." He got up then, hurt and just slightly annoyed. This wasn't the first time they were discussing this.  
"Bones, Kaala. And her staff." He pointed at the wooden weapon that was currently tied to Leliana's back.

“Where would she go without her staff?"

"I'm not having this discussion again, Zev."

"As you wish. I'll help Alistair to loot this place." He turned around then, headed towards the busy center of the big hall they were all in, where the other Warden and Wynne were discussing something with Brother Genitivi. Kahless was jumping around Shale, clearly trying to make her play fetch with him. They had all gotten used to staying close together these days. Except for Leliana, who liked to stay at the edge of the group, even when they were on a quest, as they were now.

There was strength in numbers, but nevertheless, she would have to leave some of her companions behind, preferably with Brother Genitivi, who could barely walk himself. Kaala's eyes darted back to the human rogue. She could easily make out the dark rings below the woman's eyes, even from this distance. Even with red hair covering her sight.

Light footsteps came to a halt, sending a sputtering of snow over her light boots, and then the male elf's familiar voice spoke up again.  
"You know… Leliana. She loved her. You know that, right?"  
"Zev…"  
"No, I'm really asking." It hurt. She knew the woman loved the witch. It was plain to see for everyone who had eyes and a heart.  
"I know."  
"You shouldn't…"  
"Zev, it's none of your lousy business what I do or don't do, is that clear?"

"Perfectly." He finally left her alone after that.

* * *

 "Leli." The Orlesian flinched when she heard Kaala's voice, but continued caring for her weapons.  
"Leave me alone."  
"You should rest, love."  
"Don't call me that." The venom in the bard's voice surprised the elf, even though she knew that the redhead could hardly be called sociable these days.  
"Listen, I…"

_"Don't you dare."_

"I… what?"

The archer's eyes were cold as ice as they fixed on hers. Kaala knew what was about to come next, and she knew there was no way she could talk the secretly seething bard out of it.

"I'm coming with you. Don't even think about dumping me here, with that… that… that cripple." The elf sighed. The young woman had changed. It was pointless to argue with her when she got like this. All she could do was to try and keep her as safe as possible.

"Fine." Annoyed and angry at herself for even trying, at Zevran for making her business his own, and at Leliana for constantly shutting her out, the rogue made off towards the small group still waiting in the center of the snow covered hall.

* * *

 "Someone explain to me why I have to be the one running in the back of this cheery group outing!," Oghren huffed as he tried to keep up with the other three party members.

"Isn't that obvious, dear Oghren? So you're the one who gets fucked in the arse!" Kaala allowed herself to chuckle at her own joke, before she focused on the bronto that was quickly exiting one of the rooms in front of them. She sidestepped its clumsy approach and was not surprised to find Kahless hanging from its neck in a matter of seconds, while the bard and the dwarf were busy fighting off some archers and mages. A sickening laugh escaped her own lungs when she realized how easy this fight was going to be.  _Humans._

* * *

 When they entered what might have been the castle's library, Kaala was pleasantly surprised by the fact that Leliana showed interest in the books that were still there. She let the rogue wander around for a bit, while she collected whatever useful items she could find from fallen enemies and useless chests. When she found a bottle of wine, she handed it to Oghren, in the hopes of making him complain less. The happy little smile on his face told her everything she needed to know. This would all go a lot faster now.

"Are you done studying that paper crap?" The look Leliana sent the dwarf's way was little less than a death threat. She huffed slightly and looked like she was about to say something, but then the redhead patted Kahless' head and went with him into the next room.

Kaala waited for her to be out of earshot before she approached Oghren.

"Do you really think that is necessary? Don't you think there's enough enemies here, do you want to add her to the list? I for one am not keen on engaging more Ash Wraiths and Dragonlings while she is distracted because you made her mad. _Again._ "

"It's not my fault she can't take it!" His plump body jogged next to hers, and as usual Kaala was trying very hard not to hit him over his stubborn head. She hissed back, quickening her steps when she heard Kahless barking and steel ring on steel:

"Get your head in order if you want to get out of this place alive, you stupid dwarf! Not everyone's as willing as you to die below the blasted stone!"

They rounded the corner to find the slender bard fighting off cultists from all sides, with Kahless at her heels, defending her furiously. A gigantic spider was sitting on one of the men's heads, gnawing at it while he was running around, stumbling and tripping over stones. It would have been a sight to tell your grandchildren about, if it hadn't been for the fact that the elf was more than a little nervous around arachnid creatures ever since one of them had almost chewed her leg off.

Her dagger went into the first cultist that attacked her, splitting his head wide open, and she couldn't help but notice the satisfaction that coursed through her body when she was doused in blood.

"By the Flames, didn't I ask you  _not_  to summon those ugly creatures," was all she could yell when the spider jumped onto its next victim. Leliana merely smiled, unimpressed by her outburst.

"It was the strongest animal I could find! As you might have noticed, I…"  _hack_  "…needed…"  _sidestep_ "…some…"  _slash_  "…assistance!"

"Oh, whatever." Kaala pushed herself off Oghren's back and landed on the surprised man in front of her, crushing his ugly helmet with her foot. Blood spurted from the slits in the dented metal, and suddenly Kahless was there, licking the fresh blood off her fingers.

"Good boy. You're a good boy."

* * *

 "Can you at least pretend that you're helping?!" It was all she could do to keep her composure at the moment. Maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to leave Wynne behind. Ever since Morrigan was gone, they had relied solely on her when it came to spell casting, but since the mage was hardly what Kaala would call fast on her feet, she had decided to leave her behind, and bring her dog instead. Now, facing two angry drakes, Kaala wondered what she had been thinking at that time. Spells would make this situation so much easier.

"I  _am_  helping, you ungrateful knife-eared woodrunner!" Oghren smashed his axe into the drake's skull, ripping off flesh and bone as the sharp steel descended towards the ground.

"Help more, you lazy lump of goat meat!"  
"Oh in the Ancestors’ names, will you shut your trap, woman? I'm trying to kill a reptile here!"  
His axe stuck in the drake’s head, the dwarf was flung around whenever the creature moved, clinging to his axe like it was a lifeline. Kaala herself was busy trying to keep the second drake at bay, which was already bleeding profusely. Thanks to Kahless, she had been able to slip underneath it and slit its softer belly several times.  
"Are you trying as hard as you can?"

"Are you two almost done?!" Leliana huffed, clearly frustrated with either her or Oghren or both of them. The dragon which was trying to shake Oghren off was moving too much for her to get to the sweet spot on its belly, so Kaala gave her a sign to join her and the mabari.  
"We're not done, until these scale-riddled diseases are dead and their blood soaks the ground!"

Instead of a response, the dwarf gave a massive yank and freed his axe, sending the drake to the ground, blood spurting from its giant head onto Oghren.  
"See? _Lazy lump of goat meat_ … There's three of you, and one of me!" Kaala turned to look at him, just for a moment, and almost got slashed by the creature as a result. What she saw, however, almost made her burst out laughing.

Oghren stood, with one leg propped up on the drake’s head, in the middle of a pool of blood, cocking his head and pointing at himself with his thumb.

Leliana was the first to laugh.

The sound of her own voice raised in laughter seemed to surprise Leliana herself even more than it did her companions.


	23. The Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The companions reach the mountain top, only to find... something of interest.

After defeating Kolgrim and his men, Kaala and her companions went up to the Mountain top and pretended to be unimpressed by the beautiful sight that greeted them. Snow covered peaks and steep rock faces, overgrown ruins and broken columns, and…

A dragon.

The most magnificent creature Kaala had ever seen. Purple, its scales reflecting the bright light of the sun. It circled the mountain peaks once, settling down on top of one and curling into a roaring ball of fire-spitting greatness.  
Next to her, Leliana stared up at the creature, watching its every move as it rested.

“Ain’t that a beauty? A High Dragon; never thought I would see one. Never thought I’d kill one. Now that’s a foe worthy of my axe. My ancestors would be proud. Hehe.” Oghren swung his axe, imitating killing blows, directing them at a growling Mabari.

“Oghren, leave him be!”  
“He likes it!” A loud snarl was all the answer he got, and when the huge dog grabbed the axe by the handle, Oghren admitted defeat, pouting as he did so.  
“Stupid cur! Let go of that. Dogs. I’d prefer a nug any day. They make nice dinner, too.” Grumbling, he stomped off towards what looked like a temple in the far off distance.

“Are you alright?”  
“Hm?”

“Are you alright, Leliana? I know you don’t want to talk, but…”  
“I… I am fine. Thank you. I will go and inspect those chests over there.”  
  
Frowning, the small elf wondered what had changed her friend’s behavior. Just a short time ago the tall redhead had yelled at her, had been furious and all kinds of irritating. But now she was being calm and polite. Needless to say, Kaala was more than a tad curious as to why the human woman behaved like she did. She decided that she would press the matter.  
“Wait up!”

The other rogue ignored her, however, so the elf walked after her in a leisurely pace, keeping an eye on Oghren, who had walked off into the distance, towards the temple-like building in the far wall of the mountain. He was standing between two naturally formed rock pillars, looking all exasperated and bored, waving at them to catch up. Kaala smiled back widely, letting him see her sharp incisors and her cocky eyebrow, knowing full well what it would do to his dwarven temper.  
And she was right. When she looked back over her shoulder, he had already gotten one of his flasks out, drinking from it with passion. Chuckling, she went after the bard.

* * *

When she entered the circle of pillars, the first thing she saw was a bardish backside, bending over a huge chest. A sigh escaped her lips before she could contain it, and she immediately regretted running after Leliana. The more time she spent with the young woman, the more time she _wanted_ to spend with her. Luckily, the only person who watched her close enough to notice was Zevran, and he had learned to keep his mouth shut when it came to such things. Gulping hard, Kaala put on her most cheery smile and patted the redhead on the shoulder.

“Find anything of use?”  
“Just the usual mediocre arms, nothing worth taking with us.”  
“Mh. Good then. Let’s go? Oghren and Kahless are kind of anxious to get going. Just look at them.” Snickering, she pointed at the dog and dwarf, who were busy fighting over a flask like two toddlers. A tiny smile graced the bard’s lips when she saw the scene unfold, but it was soon devoured by an emotionless expression.  
“Of course. Would you be so kind and give me a moment before I catch up to you? I kind of need to…”  
  
“Oh. _Oooh._ ” Kaala simply nodded and made some sounds that were barely more than squeaking noises, but she hoped the archer would understand. Shaking her head to clear it, she quickly ran off towards Oghren, hoping she could have a drink, too.

* * *

“Leliana will be back in a moment. She’s… you know.” Oghren merely nodded, still focused on his bottle. Kahless however greeted her with all the playfulness he always exhibited when she was gone for more than a few moments. Bending down, she rubbed her face into his soft fur, ignoring the fact that his slobber got all over her armor and neck. Her little killing machine was too wonderful to push away, anyway. Pulling him closer, she whispered to him:  
“Want to play fetch?”  
  
It barely took him a blink of an eye to pull away and bounce on his hind legs before her, waiting for her to throw something. She picked a little rock up and hoped the little idiot would be smart enough not to try and catch it in the air, as he sometimes did with sticks.

She had just thrown the rock for the fifth time, when she realized that Leliana wasn’t back yet. On one hand that didn’t mean anything, but on the other hand it could also mean that she was sitting inside those columns somewhere, crying. Before she could decide whether she wanted to investigate, the dwarf’s voice ripped her from her musings.

“Didn’t you say she was peeing?”  
“Those weren’t my exact words…”  
“She’s not. Look.” His chubby finger pointed at the gong they had walked past earlier, and when Kaala’s green eyes followed his movement, she saw it, too. There, in the distance was Leliana, walking towards the gong in determined strides.

“She’s gonna ring that thing!”  
“No. No she’s not. I’m sure she won’t…”

_GONG._

“…be stupid enough to wake the dragon.”


	24. The Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana rang the gong and let the dragon loose...

_GONG._

The last thing she heard before it seemed like all of Thedas was covered in darkness. The cursed gong.

“ARE YOU INSANE?!” Oghren’s voice was close, and she knew he was right next to her, staring at the same sight she was focused on. The dragon’s shadow appeared to span the whole mountaintop as it circled lower and lower.

Leliana. Her feet started moving of her own accord, and Kahless sprinted ahead, seemingly knowing what was about to come. The gigantic creature would reach the bard any moment, its big yellow eyes fixed on the small figure on the other end of the plain. The girl didn’t move, she just stood there, staring at the descending High Dragon.  
“Get your bow out you stupid surface-lover!” She would never have known that the dwarf was drunk, if she hadn’t known the exact amount of alcohol he had in his body right this moment. His feet were as sure and fast as ever, if not faster, since he easily kept pace with her and the dog.

She was almost deafened by a mighty roar when the creature leaped over her head, landing between her and the bard, flapping its wings and wagging its tail, almost sending her sprawling over it.

“By the Dread Wolf!” Jumping over the rapidly moving tail, Kaala tried to maneuver to the underside of the dragon’s body, so she could stab at the softer scales of its stomach. As she did, she could hear Oghren yell “… descended from goat dung!” before she felt sharp claws dig into her.  
“Kaala!” She felt more than she saw that hands were pulling on her feet, when all of a sudden she was in the air, staring down at the ground and three staring figures. She tried sheathing her swords, but when that proved impossible, she let them drop, hoping she wouldn’t hit any of her friends. After that she merely held on. She held onto the huge claw that encircled her body and dug into her back with its sharp ends.

“Get her down, you useless human! Do something with that bow of yours!” The elf could see Oghren shoving and pulling the young woman, trying to get her to do something, as she was seemingly still standing there, doing nothing. The redhead turned towards him, and Kaala couldn’t hear what she answered, but the dwarf she heard clearly enough:  
“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU CAN OR CAN’T DO! MOVE YOUR REEKY HUMAN ASS AND DO SOMETHING!”

And suddenly the bard moved, her movements sluggish and not what the elf was used to. But she notched the arrow and sent it flying. And another followed. And another. And then the dragon started descending, rushing towards the ground. _What did you do, what did you do Leliana?!_

The closer they came to the stony ground, the more Kaala wondered whether she was going to die here. And right before she knew her face would hit the rocks, she closed her eyes, expecting the inevitable.

But when it didn’t come, she opened them again, only to be confronted by Oghren’s axe.  
“What are you doing, are you nuts?!”  
“What am _I_ doing? You’re the one clinging to a blasted High Dragon!”  
“What?”  
“Let go of the damned beast already!” Looking up at the claw holding her, she realized he was right. The beast was currently on its hind legs, fighting off Leliana and her scimitars with one and Oghren with the other hand. The only thing keeping her in the middle of it all were her arms holding tight to the huge claws. She let go. Stumbling to find her footing, she grabbed hold of the dwarf, looking for her weapons the instant she stood steadily.

She saw one of her swords and picked it up, trying to find her composure again. As she did, she saw her loyal Mabari, standing proudly on all fours, growling loudly, but not daring to attack. Looking at their situation, she knew something was off, but she didn’t know what exactly.

The enormous creature wasted no time with such sentiments, it seemed, as it was busy attacking Leliana and Oghren and her, alternating its attacks, snapping at her with sharp teeth, clawing at the bard with curved claws and roaring loudly at the dwarf whenever he landed an especially hard blow. Kaala forgot her musings momentarily, too busy was she with fighting for her life, dodging vicious blows and snaps. But whenever she had a moment to catch a breath, she knew: something wasn’t right.

And then Oghren pointed out the obvious, huffing and puffing with exertion:  
“Why isn’t it blasting flames? What’s going on?!” And for the first time since she had sounded the gong, Leliana spoke up, surprising them all.  
“She can’t control it yet.”

“She? … Right. All High Dragons are females. I forgot. Well, I’ll kill myself a dragon today! Always wanted to do that. Ha! By the ancestors, and what a beauty she is.”  
“What do you mean ‘she can’t control it _yet_ ’?” Staring at the bard, Kaala realized what had been bothering her apart from the lack of fire. Leliana might be fighting with both her swords, but as she watched her, she realized that she was merely blocking the blows raining down on her, making no move to exploit the weaknesses the dragon had. Exposed armpits, soft skin between the single digits, and an open mouth, offering itself to her scimitars every now and then.  
  
It was then that she knew for certain that something was wrong. Something was very wrong. And a thought formed in her head, threatening to take her over. Ignoring that, she ducked under flapping wings that came too close for comfort and went to stand right next to the bard.  
“Leliana. You listen to me. And you listen to me closely. Do you actually think… Do you… Do you think that this… this beast…”  
“Yes.”

She all but whispered when her lips were able to form words again.  
“It can’t be.”  
“It is. Can’t you feel it?”  
“Noooooooooooo, I can’t feel shit. All I feel is slightly lost because I don’t know what to think.” Kaala dodged the dragon’s arm swinging in her direction, rolling until she came to stand just beneath the monster’s wings.  
“What… What am I supposed to do right now, hm? What do you want me to do?”

Exasperation and despair had taken her over, in stark contrast to Leliana, who was still calmly deflecting the creature’s blows, and Oghren, who was busy keeping the swift claws off of him with his massive and slow axe.  
“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

For a moment, it seemed like the world came to a halt. Oghren, Leliana and even Kahless looked at her in surprise, and then, then the world burst into flame.

_“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”_

Leliana’s voice rang in her ear when heat enveloped her. Warmth spread through her body, and she felt like she was on fire. Which she was.

* * *

“Let her go, let her go!” Voices. Yelling.  
“You think shouting at a High Dragon will accomplish anything, you limp-wristed Chantry girl?!”  
“ _I’m not a…_ just help me, will you!” After that, Oghren’s grumbling seemed to come closer; she felt something on her leg and then her body was being crushed. Cringing and crying out in pain, she was barely able to keep track of her surroundings So when the pain subsided, she felt light all of a sudden, as everything around her started moving. Her body did not approve however, and she resisted the urge to spill her guts, as the pain in her chest got worse, her lungs aching and her ribs complaining. She didn’t know what had happened, didn’t remember how she came to be here, but she knew she didn’t want to see what was going on. Not like this.

A snort to her right made her turn her head in that direction, and for a moment she completely ignored the fact that her talking companions seemed to fade out. Ragged breaths tickled the skin of her face even through the small slits of the helmet. Something was close. Something big.

“Oghren do something! Please!” Leliana’s voice somewhere in the distance was shrill and unusually loud. Not at all like Kaala remembered her. The elf blinked. She remembered. Relief washed over her as she acknowledged that her mind was alright. And then she realized her predicament.

The dragon.

Opening her eyes fully, Kaala tried focusing on the figure in front of her. Dark purple, sparkling in the sun. When her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she flinched back. The dragon’s head was barely more than an arm’s length away from her, breathing steamy air into her face. She coughed, more out of shock than anything else. When she looked down, towards the voices she had heard, she gulped awkwardly. The ground below them had turned into a blurry white surface, and her companions were barely more than black dots on a white canvas. If she were to fall… Shaking her head, she tried to get rid of the unpleasant images roaming through her head. Her nostrils widened and she was afraid, and she couldn’t think of anything that would help her now.

She was trapped in the most frightening of places, between a dragon and a deep fall, not caring much for either. It was easy to get lost in thought as she watched the beast move, the ripple of muscle as the strong wings kept them suspended in the air. Her thoughts started wandering again, and her eyes did the same. Slitted nostrils flared from time to time, bathing her in warm air. A part of her enjoyed the curious sensation, wanted more of it. A shudder ran through her body, and instantly, a golden eye fixed on her.

Kaala felt naked even in her dragonskin armor. As earlier events sprang back to mind, she understood that Wade’s armor set had probably saved her life. She promised herself to pay him double next time, should she ever get out of this alive.

Another snort brought her back to the present. She tried to calm her breathing, to stop the chattering of her teeth, but it was in vain. Hiding her fear would not work. She coughed again, didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle this situation. There were only two outcomes she could think of: She would either die right here, or she would be the happiest person alive, if what Leliana suspected proved to be the truth. But how, how could it be true?

A tear slipped down her cheek when she thought of the witch. Stern and unyielding. Always. But never so with Leliana. She had been sassy and confrontational. And she had enjoyed it. Of course the mage would never have said so, but Kaala knew it to be true. The Witch of the Wilds had enjoyed her discussions with the fidgety bard. And she had enjoyed her time with the elf, as well. Too often Kaala had taken advantage of the mage’s easy acceptance, had arrived at her shelter in the middle of the night, drunk and blabbering; and always, every single time, the stoic woman had made room for her so she could sleep it off.

As the tear slipped past her lips, Kaala licked it off. Morrigan. Her friend. One of her hands started moving slowly, and she could feel the yellow orbs watching her carefully. Taking off her helmet, she felt herself losing control of her emotions.

At first, her lips started quivering, and then her cheeks joined in. Her whole body was aflame. Aflame with pain. Her eyebrows pulled together involuntarily, and one tear turned into many.

_I thought you were dead._

_I thought you were dead, my friend._


	25. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of moments from the past six months in Leliana's life.

**_5 months ago_ **

The hunt wasn’t going as expected. Too distracting were the thoughts of the witch, too distracting was the pain in her chest, pressing her heart together in one tight knot.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she thought of the mage yet again. The woman was never far from her thoughts, but sometimes she had an hour or two of blissful ignorance. Not so now. The raven-haired beauty haunted her every step of the way; every animal she encountered seemed to bear her scent, her eyes, the color of her hair… _something_ to keep her from shooting the already notched arrow.

Leliana sat down on a nearby log, leaning her bow against the moss-covered wood. For a moment she just sat there, watching the forest and its inhabitants, trying to forget about her pain. ‘A foolish notion’, the witch would surely have told her. Handling emotions hadn’t been Morrigan’s strong suit. Magic was, for sure, yet the intricate feelings that humans had to deal with had never been something she had been good at.

A choking sound escaped her lips when she thought of the witch in the past tense. Clasping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, Leliana lost whatever strength she had that had kept her from weeping.

Tears rolled down her face freely now, collecting on her chin and hand, falling to the ground with soft splashes. The longer she cried, the more painful it became, and soon her body was shaking uncontrollably, barely able to stay seated on the log. The thought of never seeing Morrigan again felt like a punch in the chest. Worse even, like a knife plunging into her heart, twisting and turning, ripping apart everything that made her who she was.

It took her a long time to calm down enough to even stand up, but eventually she did. Leliana returned to camp. Without game. Again.

* * *

**_3 months ago_ **

Holding a strand of fur in her hand, Leliana was hiding inside her tent, content to be alone for a moment. Her companions had become increasingly annoying over time, asking her how she was, telling her stories, intent on making her laugh, but occasionally they were blunt enough to tell her she was wasting away, that Morrigan was dead and would never return.

She thought of the time when she had cried almost every day, had cried herself to sleep, had woken up with wet eyes. It was a little better now. Thinking of the witch still felt like someone was trying to rip her heart out, but she had more control over her face, and she could hide it better. The pain. The immense pain.

Twisting the bear’s fur between her fingers, she imagined what it would be like to touch Morrigan again. To feel her warm body against hers, comforting her, holding her, protecting her from everything that caused her pain. A sad smile tugged at her lips, and her eyes closed for an instant, blocking out her surroundings. For a moment it felt like she was here. Her vicious remarks and sultry voice.

Shaking her head, the rogue opened her eyes, focusing on the real world. This was where she belonged. This was the world where she would find Morrigan or Morrigan’s killer. She knew now that her hopes could very well be crushed, that the magnificent mage was most likely dead. But she couldn’t live with that thought, so she kept telling herself that she would find the older woman again. She would. And if it cost her life.

**_1 month ago_ **

Leliana’s jaw tightened. When her punch cracked the elf’s nose, a pleased smile spread over her lips. The smaller figure stumbled back, holding their face.  
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” Wynne came rushing towards them, her staff held protectively in front of her, as if she expected an attack. Although she did not bother helping the injured rogue to stand straight, her eyes went to the broken nose, inspecting it casually.  
“What do you think you’re doing, you stupid girl?!” The old mage’s staff went up, coming to a halt right in front of Leliana’s face. She stared at it for a moment, pondering what she should do with the irritating witch.

She decided that the woman would have to leave her and the elf alone. She effortlessly ripped the staff from the mage’s hands and shoved it into the ground.  
“Wynne. Go. This is between us.” The grey-haired woman looked at the elf for a moment, obviously trying to figure out what to do. Nodding and ignoring the distrustful look the mage sent Leliana’s way, the elf stood up straight, wiping the blood off his nose.

Zevran spit some blood to the ground, unaware of Leliana’s angry glare. Human fingers twitched, longing to punch him again. Leliana stared at Wynne for a moment, praying the old hag would go. Just this once. The rogue knew as a mage of the circle Wynne had strict rules, and she hadn’t been too happy about her getting closer to Morrigan. The events today had not changed things for the better.

“Leave. Now.” Surprisingly enough, Zevran seemed to want her gone just as much as she did. Finally her prayers were heard, and the witch left them alone, muttering impolitely as she went away. She was barely out of earshot when the small elf spoke up:  
“Leliana, listen t…”  
“No. _You_ listen. If you ever, _ever_ do this again, I will do more than punch you. Whether you are drunk or not.”  
“Leliana…”  
“Zevran, _NO_.”

Looking at the small figure of the elven assassin properly for the first time since they started talking, she noticed dark circles beneath the blond eyebrows. She knew Zevran wasn’t well. Some time ago he had started drinking, which he had rarely done before. He looked disheveled and unwell, his armor had been fastened clumsily, and now that blood was flowing down his chin, he looked rather pitiful.

Leliana sighed and looked down at the shivering creature, kicking him in the shin out of pure spite. Her well-placed kick sent the rogue sprawling to the ground with a yelp.  
“I said I’m sorry, Leliana…”

Sighing, the bard sat down on a nearby rock, wondering what she should do. She still missed Morrigan, and she knew it showed. The only person she had even let remotely close had been Kaala. She hadn’t realized that by spending time with the lively elf she had attracted Zevran’s attention. Apparently the rogue and assassin had become rather close, close enough to share their bed from time to time. Leliana hadn’t known that until mere moments ago. The somewhat inebriated and jealous elf had approached her when she had come back from Kaala’s tent in the middle of the night. He had been yelling at her in a way that was completely out of character for the usually quite rational elf, throwing insults left and right.

At first she had been confused by his outburst, hadn’t known what it was about. Until the drunken ramblings had started to make some kind of sense and she had become angry and annoyed. It was true. She had spent many a night in Kaala’s bed, in her arms. Shaking and crying. That’s all she had ever done. Kaala had comforted her when no one else could, taking care of her, never disagreeing with her when she had said Morrigan was still alive. She had needed that, and it had helped her. The red-haired elf had been the only one who hadn’t tried to convince her that Morrigan was dead and gone forever. She had stayed silent, nodded once or twice, but never argued.

When Zevran had yelled at her, she had stayed surprisingly calm, even though she had known he would probably wake the whole camp. Which he had. Wynne had come out of her tent first, but others had followed. Leliana had become slightly agitated at that point. She had kept ignoring the curious glances and murmured complaints, but she knew that her annoyance had been visible for everyone. Except for Zevran, who had continued shouting.

At one point, he had gone so far as to grab her by her armor, pulling her towards him, his drunken sputtering showering her in spit. That had been the moment her patience had run out. When she had punched him, it hadn’t been lightly, and hadn’t been meant to simply push him away. She had wanted to hurt him.

Now, with thoughts running through her head like a horde of crazed skeletons, she regretted hitting him.

Slightly.

* * *

**_2 weeks ago_ **

“Kaala, no.”  
“Why? You should let it go, you know he’s an idiot sometimes.” An unbidden smile spread across her lips, and Leliana regretted it immediately. Zevran was not an idiot. His love for Kaala had forced him to lash out, that was all. He always said he didn’t love, but this time he obviously did. His eyes followed the lithe elf everywhere she went, even though he tried to hide it.

“I said no. Don’t think you can force me into it.” Kaala looked at her, annoyed and disappointed, and maybe a little hurt.  
“I know I can’t _force_ you. But look, I know the two of you have been good friends, why…”  
“Because. I can’t talk to him any longer, try and understand that. His behavior… It wasn’t right and… and I’m not sure it won’t happen again.”

The look in the elf’s eyes told her everything she needed to know. Kaala didn’t know either. Zevran had distanced himself from Leliana after the incident two weeks ago, and he hadn’t returned to drinking since. But still, the bard and the elf both knew that the part of him that had yelled at her was still in there. And Kaala’s behavior wasn’t helping. At least one of them knew that.

“You can’t come into my tent anymore when you’re drunk, Kaala.” Hurt flickered in green eyes, and for a moment Leliana wondered whether there was more to the elf’s friendship than met the eye. But to her surprise the rogue didn’t argue. She smiled weakly and pointed towards the looming figure of Zevran in the back of the camp.  
“Yeah, I get that. He’ll be happy about that, I assume.”  
“I bet he will. Listen…”  
“No, really. It’s fine, Leliana. I understand. No matter how many times I tell his scrawny ass to stay out of it, he just keeps interfering. I’m not sure what to do. Ordering him around works fine in battle, but it obviously doesn’t work in this case. He’s… he’s become too attached. That’s why I thought it would help if you two talked to each other…?”

“By the Maker, I told you no!”  
“I know, I know…”

* * *

**_2 days ago_ **

Ever since Kaala and Leliana had talked, Leliana had gone out of her way to stay away from the two elves as much as possible. It was lonely. The loneliness surprised the redhead. She had spent a lot of time in the last few months alone, away from the others. Shutting herself off. Mainly because she did not care for discussions about whether or not Morrigan was actually dead. It seemed no matter where she went, the topic was bound to come up. So she had secluded herself from the others. It hadn’t bothered her. Kaala had visited her at night, and in the beginning they had found comfort in the knowledge that they both missed the witch. She hadn’t been alone.

But now, with no one to talk to, Leliana felt lonely. Back were the days when she cried herself to sleep; back were the sleepless nights or nightmares. She felt awful. But she couldn’t let go. And it was more often than not that she went to bed with a certain strand of hair in her hand.


	26. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan finds herself hungry and annoyed on top of a mountain.

_‘Twas a curious sensation. Fog was clouding her mind, her sight was blurred and she seemed to be shaking. Morrigan could not make sense of it. Everything felt wrong. She shook her head when images penetrated her mind, unbidden. A woman, old, but beautiful, her voice raspy and authoritative. Morrigan could not make out words, but she knew she was familiar with this image. It felt like a betrayal, and a part of her ached when she finally understood the words._

_“You are not worthy of this body, dear child. I should have taken it from you when I had the chance. But be that as it may, you will not have what is rightfully mine.”_

_Pain coursed through her body, needles of agonizing torment pushing against her skin, ripping her apart. Morrigan screamed._

* * *

Waking up, she knew she had been dreaming again. It seemed to become more and more common to wake up in the middle of the day, when normally she would sleep until late into the night. Groaning loudly, she realized she was hungry. Yet again. What little goat and deer population had been in these mountains, she had made quick work of it. Too rare was it that humans found their way up this slope, and the few who had… they had been nothing but a snack. Always on foot, never on horseback. A laughable meal at best. And the armor they all wore was a nuisance and cumbersome to remove.

She had been here as long as she could remember, feeding off of humans and wild animals alike. Now, it seemed, prey was becoming scarce. ‘Twas a new development, for she could not remember that ever happening before. Her memories were foggy, and she could not make sense of time. But she was certain that aeons had passed without her ever going to sleep hungry, so the nagging sensation in her stomach was new and unpleasant.

* * *

The hunt had proven pointless again. This was the sixth day she had not eaten, and she had found that she could go not much longer before she became too weak to even breathe fire. Already it was proving difficult, so she had stopped the pointless albeit entertaining task of setting trees on fire. ‘Twas a lonely life, and hard. Hunger and boredom had slowly made her more and more restless; she slept less and spent more time on top of the mountain, gazing down at Ferelden, as if it were hers.  
Of course it was not. What a foolish notion...

Yet no matter how much she fought that thought, she felt that this was her home. This mountain range was the place she was supposed to be. She could not leave; ‘twas her duty to protect it from whatever threat lay around the next corner.

The dragon swooped down onto her rock, tired and exhausted after a fruitless hunt. Curling into a ball, Morrigan tucked her head under her wings, providing protection from the bitter cold.

A gong echoed through the brisk air.

* * *

_HUMANS._

* * *

Before she knew it, she was fighting off arrows and blades. Her snarls were half-hearted, her slashes wild but weak. She could not make sense of her body’s movements, unaccustomed was she to the weakness of her muscles, to the knot encircling her heart for some unknown reason. Her mind became foggier the longer she fought the enraging humans. They smelled strange, eerily familiar yet tasty, too. A snort escaped her lungs and she covered the human next to her in a pathetic little flame.

Morrigan grabbed the smoking thing and leapt into the air. She was tired of fighting these annoying creatures, and this one would be enough to strengthen her, even if it was the scrawniest of the three. Small and thin. And it smelled peculiar. Though not as bad as the small fat one. That one offended her olfactory senses so much so that she wondered whether she should eat it at all.

When she focused her attention on the skinny creature in her claws, she instantly realized why she found its smell so peculiar. The armor the thing was wearing had been made of her sisters’ skins; protecting the filthy beast from her flame as well as making it reek of death.

The thing shivered, and Morrigan let her eyes meet its green ones. It stared at her, eyes wide and scared. ‘Twas obviously trying to hide it, but the shivering as well as the pungent odor of fear gave it away. Something akin to a smile spread over her mouth, and a chuckle built up inside of her. The thing was shivering, its teeth chattering, but somehow none of it was enjoyable to her. She should revel in its obvious discomfort, smile and rip off its head. But her claws were holding onto it almost tenderly, and she could not understand why.

She tried to think about it, trying to remember whether this had happened before, but all she saw was fog. Morrigan closed her eyes for a moment, willing the fog to vanish, poking at it with all the force of her mind. The dragon shook its head, trying to clear the images suddenly penetrating its confused mind.

Red hair, smelling like a breeze floating through summer’s flowers tickling her nose … a warm body pressing against hers … a dog barking … a nagging old woman … screams … swords clashing … soft lips kissing hers … a tall warrior dying in battle … _enchantment!_ … blood spurting from decapitated heads … the crackling of a fire … a tiny redhead’s sarcasm making her smile … laughter … magic coursing through her veins … her heart, filled to the brim with emotions she didn’t understand … anger … fear … the perfection of staring into blue eyes … her own voice, laced with desire … the Fade … laughing maniacally … tucking in that annoying bastard of an elven rogue … and then … darkness.

Golden eyes flew open, her brain not yet ready to understand, not willing to catch up with her heart. They watched a tear descend upon elven cheek, ending in the rogue’s mouth when it was licked away. Small hands took off the inhibiting helmet, freeing short red hair to be played with by the wind and Morrigan’s raspy breath.

Tears spilled more freely now, and the dragon did not know how to proceed. This creature should be dead by now. This creature should be food.

But then she heard the thoughts so clearly being sent to her through iridescent green orbs.

_I thought you were dead._

_I thought you were dead, my friend._

Part of her stopped to exist, and she felt herself falling. Falling fast, holding onto the elf more tightly than she had ever held anything other than prey.


	27. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making friends with a dragon is as complicated as it sounds.

The dragon was soaring so high up in the sky that all Leliana could see was a tiny fleck of black against the soft white of the flawless winter sky. Trusting her instincts, trusting that this enormous creature was their long lost companion and her sorely missed friend… friend. The bard smiled. The Witch of the Wilds had become so much more to her, more even than the redhead dared to admit. Needles of pain had pricked her skin when she had seen the magnificent dragon resting on its rock. Hitting that gong with the hilt of her scimitars had happened almost naturally, as if she had been drawn towards the heavy golden plate.

When the dragon had come down on them, she had been shocked and exhilarated at the same time. The brightly colored scales of the reptile had left her breathless, and the earth shattering roars pulsated through her body and set her blood aflame.

There was no denying the beauty of the beast, nor its deadliness. Sharp claws snapped at her, and it was all she could do to dodge the blows and stay unharmed.

The dragon was indeed strong, but her blows were wildly inaccurate and executed hastily. Leliana didn’t understand why, but for the moment she did not care. She had fallen into an easy rhythm of dodging and blocking, giving her ample time to think about this situation.

So lost in her thoughts was she, that she didn’t notice the elf who crept ever closer to the furious beast. Only when hot flames erupted from the creature’s mouth did she pay attention to the lithe woman. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that Kaala was perfectly unharmed, and the moment the reptile took flight, she grabbed for her, grabbed anything she could get her hands on in a futile attempt to make the beast stay.

Her blows and screams and desperation had no impact on the massive form Morrigan had taken on; seemingly unbothered the dragon rose into the sky, Kaala in her grasp.

* * *

It was impossible to tell what the dragon and Kaala were doing up there, and her inability to do anything about it was driving the bard insane. With a flick of the hand that had become second nature over the past few months, Leliana uncovered the pendant she wore, rubbing it between her fingertips.

“Elf! You cursed land creature! Come back down!” Oghren was walking in circles, shaking his battle axe, angrily yelling at the sky. Kahless was right next to him, sulking and growling, his massive claws digging into the soft snow. The rogue stared at her companions, not sure what she was supposed to do at a moment such as this. Fighting Morrigan with full force was not an option, even if the dragon came back down onto the ground.

“Blasted reptile, I’m going to rip your guts out through your throat! …” Grumble. Oghren always grumbled when he knew no one was listening. Leliana was lost. The odds had been in their favor, four of them against one dragon, it should have been an easy fight. But instead, her earlier feeling of recognizing the dragon had become certainty, and thus she had become incapable of fighting with all she had. It was her fault Kaala was at the mercy of an angry beast.

“I will kill you. Yes I will…” When she heard Oghren’s angry words, her head dropped onto her chest, and a lonely tear made its way down her chin and onto the hand that still held her pendant. The metal of the locket had become warm thanks to her touch, enough so that part of her wondered whether that was the way it always was. Forcing her eyes away from the jewelry, the human looked back up at the sky, trying to make out the small figure that was the dragon. There was no point in doing so, since all she could make out were clouds and tiny flecks of _something_ , which could very well be the dragon and its wings, but she just wasn’t sure.

A cold nose brushed against the hand that was hanging by her side, demanding attention. Bending down to ruffle the short coat of the Mabari, Leliana felt the unique connection she had to the dog. To all dogs really. Her skill as a ranger allowed her to connect to most animals in a way that other people couldn’t. She could make wolves attack Hurlocks, send bears into a fight against armored humans, but most of all, she could make them _want_ to do it. A thought occurred to her. And that was when the pendant became warmer even than her hands were.

“This… How…” Before she knew what was happening, her mind flew out to the animals around them, brushing past Kahless, deer and goats and birds, climbing ever higher toward the place she knew the dragon to be. Not sure what she would do when she got there, but willing to try anything to save Kaala and Morrigan, her mind pushed upwards harder through the clouds.

After what seemed like an eternity, she came upon an energy signature she had never seen before. It was twisted, dark, not like the usually so bright colors that she saw when looking for animals to control. Dark purple tufts of smoke seemed to be covered by black tendrils; here and there purple bits escaped the tight net of darkness, floating in the clear white air. Like a contrast to the enormous dark form inhabiting the sky, Kaala’s much smaller energy glowed bright green, like a newly formed leaf. Too focused on her task, Leliana paid little mind to the smaller form and just pressed against the unknown substance, trying to make her way into what she hoped would be Morrigan’s mind.

* * *

Pain coursed through her body all of a sudden, and it was all she could do to keep from rushing back into it. She felt the locket burn into the skin of her hand, could smell the burning flesh, but she could also feel that she was making progress on her way inside the hard shell that covered the Witch of the Wilds. Pressing onward, she ignored the pain and finally slipped inside.

* * *

It was not how she expected it to be. Morrigan’s mind let her in easily, but instead of planting an order or a desire like she did when she controlled animals, Leliana stayed, roaming in the vastness of the witch’s mind. Images appeared in her mind and she realized she saw the same thing Morrigan was seeing. Bits and pieces of memories flashed before her eyes and the rogue realized that the mage couldn’t remember her time with the Warden and her companions. Whatever had happened to the witch, it most certainly had affected her memory.

This was the first time the bard experienced another’s thoughts and memories, and she tried not to influence them, but she felt herself slipping, adding bits and pieces here and there, moments in time with the witch. A confused being melted with hers, until she herself was as confused as the dragon she was occupying. Her heart went out to the witch, enveloping her with her mind, protecting her from the gruesome things she seemed to want to remember by force.

The flash of images stopped, and Leliana felt something inside of the dragon shift. It felt different and slightly warmer, and as she expanded the perception of her surroundings, she noticed the black tendrils recede, shrinking, disappearing bit by bit. The fiery sensation in her hand vanished, leaving behind the stinging pain of a fresh burn.

From inside her place in Morrigan’s form, she could see more clearly now that the darkness was vanishing. Green light was reaching out to them, brushing against them in the most intimate way. And when she felt Kaala’s mind touching hers, she sent her thoughts along to the witch, hoping it would help her let go of whatever had trapped her in this form. When she felt the dragon flinch and pull back, she knew it had been a bad idea.

* * *

They were falling. Falling fast towards the snow covered ground. Morrigan’s mind was a series of scrambled thoughts and images, the epitome of confusion. She tried to calm the chaotic thoughts with the quiet of her presence, sending out what she hoped would be soothing images and for a moment she felt the witch relax, open herself in Leliana’s guiding hands. Resisting the urge to force the woman turned dragon to spread her wings, she instead gently willed her to do so, offering praise and gentle nudges where needed. It seemed to take the dragon forever, but finally the gigantic wings spread and stopped their fall, transforming it into a slow descent.

Details down on the ground were becoming clearer and it didn’t take long before she could hear Oghren’s angry yelling. “What do you think you’re doing you dimwit!? Sodding knife-ears, you are all the same! Get out of there, looking up at that nothingness is driving me insane! By the Ancestors, Warden, are you even listening?!” “Do you mind, you drunken bastard? I’m kind of in the middle of something here! Stop your pointless yelling!!” Leliana had to admit that the small elf was either brave as can be or just utterly crazy for staying so calm while in the claws of a colossal monster.

The dragon’s feet hit the ground with a thud and Kahless came running, barking and jumping at Kaala, who dropped to her knees the instant Morrigan let her go.

“Bard. Hey, bard. Should I attack her…?” Oghren’s voice was now close to her ears, and her concentration was dwindling. She hoped the mage wouldn’t do anything stupid if she let go. Slowly, she released the hold she had had on the witch’s mind and slipped back into her own body. She was greeted by a bearded redhead, waving his hand in front of her face and shaking his axe angrily. “Knock-knock! Anyone there?!”

“Don’t yell, I can hear just fine.”  
“Where did you go to?”  
“I’ll explain later. Where is Morrigan?”  
“Morr… Leliana, did you hit your head?”  
“I… No. I will explain later.”

Leaving the confused dwarf to figure out the situation on his own, the young bard turned around and walked to the angrily snorting dragon who was busy trying to keep Kaala and Kahless apart. Obviously the tenderness between the two did not amuse the giant creature. Either that or she feared the dog might steal her prey. Big golden eyes fixed on her when she approached the dragon, and Leliana felt slightly insecure when they flashed in a way that she could not explain.

“Leliana… What are you doing?” Kaala walked up to her, completely ignoring the claw that was grasping for her.  
“I’m not sure? I just know that I need to talk to her.” Looking up to her, Kaala seemed to ponder over that for a bit until she finally nodded her approval.  
“Fine. You talk. But if anything happens…”  
“Kaala, I don’t think _you’re_ in a position to hold that speech right now…”

“Yeah yeah…” Rolling her eyes, the lithe elf walked towards a cursing Oghren, filling him in on what he had missed. Kahless trailed behind, but halted midway, looking back at her and the panting creature in front of her.  
“Go. I’ll be safe, I promise.” At that, the Mabari trotted off, wagging its tail happily when it caught up with the elf and the dwarf.

“Well. Now we’re alone. Do you feel like talking?” Smiling, Leliana sat down on a nearby rock, grasping for the pendant on her neck. Stinging pain made her halt mid-motion. Looking at her hand, she saw the seared skin of her palm, bright red and blisters covering the tender spot.  
“Oh.”

The dragon came closer, inspecting her curiously, sniffing the burned skin on her palm. It was hard to resist the urge to pull back. Morrigan’s head was easily as big as the bard was tall, and her enormous nostrils sent shivers down her spine. She didn’t think about it, but her healthy hand reached for her locket, enclosing it in its grasp. A purple light formed between her closed fingers, and Leliana stared at the forming smoke flowing from her towards the snorting dragon.


	28. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan tries to remember what it is she forgot.

_The pain you feel shall be never-ending. There shall be no way to return to who you are. Everything you have ever been is gone. Every bit of your body morphed into the wicked form of a dragon, the strongest creature there ever was. Your corporeal form is lost forever, lost until I come back to make you mine. Nothing stays behind. Not even your mind shall be the same. Lost. Forever lost._

* * *

Thinking was proving hard. The emptiness of her stomach was nagging at her restraint. ‘Twas the human’s fault. It smelled vaguely familiar and… appetizing. The grumbling of her stomach brought to a stop whatever it had been the human was doing. Purple smoke vanished when the slender figure stood up; uncertain.

“Morrigan…” The dragon’s head tilted questioningly, trying to understand the tiny whisper.

‘Twas her name. Her name coming off red lips. The sigh the human let out after her name was one of longing and something else that she could not discern.  
“Trust me.” ‘Twas a ridiculous thing to say. Snarling, the High Dragon showed the slim figure that ‘twas not her who should trust, but the human. Ripping the flimsy armor apart would prove easy enough, her sharp fangs crushing through bones and meat the same.

Still reveling in the vivid pictures of meat in her mouth, she was surprised when a hand landed just above her nostrils, calmly scratching her nose.  
“Trust me.” Unbidden, her eyes closed and she nuzzled into the touch of the oh so tiny hand. This surely was not a natural thing. She was certain of it. Dragons did not let humans touch them. However, she enjoyed the unfamiliar sensation immensely, so she did not move until she felt the magic creeping towards her.

The hand currently on her nose didn’t move, and neither did the human. Uncertain where the magic originated from, the dragon opened her eyes, staring slightly cross-eyed at the redhead in front of her muzzle. There it was. Magic. Erupting from the female human’s other hand. A hand that was currently holding something small. Something that was fighting to get to her. She watched the human and realized that the magic was not coming from the rogue. It came from her. Whatever it was the human was holding, it was calling for her, and so her magic responded. Trying to get that thing to her with all its might.

A roar escaped her mouth, nearly scaring the woman to death, making her jump back in apparent surprise and fear. This would not do. She needed to know what it was that the human was holding, so she slowly approached the rogue, her snout indicating the tightly closed hand on the human’s chest. Pushing her nose forward, she brushed her reptilian skin against the tightly closed hand of the redhead. Surely the otherwise useless human would understand. She waited patiently for the creature to open her hand, and when she did not, Morrigan impatiently, her enormous nostrils sending a gush of wind through soft red hair. The small woman gasped, but also complied.

The human reacted slowly, tentatively; opening her hand, she let her sniff the material on her palm. As trembling fingers opened up, they revealed a small locket in the form of a crescent moon. Tufts of hair were sticking out of the bent side, brown and wiry. There was something familiar about that hair, ‘twas obvious and yet confusing; the feelings coursing through her body unwanted and new. Somehow that small strand of hair was connected to her. Certainly she would make sure to find out how.

The moment she sniffed the tangled mess, images penetrated her mind.

* * *

_The redhead, hiding in a tent, sobbing uncontrollably as she clutched the tresses to her chest._

_The redhead, sharpening a sword, the dark tangles lying next to her on a rock._

_The redhead, arguing with a blond elf, cursing and swearing, her fist tightly wrapped around the small amount of hairs._

_The redhead, sleeping peacefully for once, her hand on her chest, holding onto the amulet containing the dark strands._

_The redhead, penetrating her mind while her body remained firmly planted on the ground, holding onto the one thing she did not want to lose. Not even if it burned her skin._

* * *

 

Shaking her head to clear her mind, the dragon stared at the slightly shaking creature in front of her. The images she had seen had done something to her. Her heart ached for the woman in front of her, however inexplicable it was. The softness she had seen, the heartache… She wanted to see it again. One of her eyes bored into blue ones, trying to remember more. But the intensity of her stare seemed to have an effect on the human.

‘Twas obvious that the human was afraid. Blue eyes were staring at her wild-eyed, slender fingers trembling, but not daring to move away from the dragon’s enormous mouth. An inhuman chuckle escaped her lungs and frightened the rogue even more. ‘Twas a ridiculous situation they were in. Neither one of them knew the other, and although the small creature in front of her seemed to know her name, she did not believe she was who the human thought her to be.

“Morrigan…” Rolling her head, she let her neck crack audibly, as she let the physical reaction to that name wash over her. ‘Twas hers. And yet it was not. Coming from the lips of this other creature it sounded different from what she called herself. ‘Twas the same, and yet not so. Somehow she had been a different person. In a previous life perhaps; she did not know.

“Morrigan”, the human said as she yet again took a step closer, clearly making an effort to ignore her instincts and recoil in fear. Her voice was steady however, and the dragon could not ignore the fact that the voice was enticing and startlingly familiar; comforting even.

With the rogue so close, Morrigan felt it more intensely now. The small locket the human possessed, it was drawn to her, as much as she was drawn to it. It seemed the closer she came to the small collection of metal and hair, the more the magic intensified. Purple billows of smoke rose up from the human item as she put her nose right above it. ‘Twas a strange thing.

“What’s happening “, the human whispered, not knowing whether to stare at the amulet or her. Morrigan huffed. ‘Twas uncertain whether it was the presence of the human or the closeness of the amulet, but she felt how something inside of her seemed to click into place. This was not her. Somehow she did not belong in this body, something was wrong.

She tried hard to remember, but all she came up with were foggy memories of prior hunts and long lonely days on this mountain. Nothing more. Shutting her eyes, she tried to remember more, tried to force her memories to come back. Yet the result was the same. Her mind did not simply offer her the treasure she was looking for.

“Morrigan, what…?”

The concern in the human’s voice was evident, and it felt surprisingly good to hear it. Her head ached from concentrating too hard and the soft voice was rather soothing inside of her head. She decided to keep her eyes closed, just for a moment.

Her head dropped to the ground, sending soft snow flying in all directions. Her body followed, although she had not given it an order to do so. Maybe this was all right and good. Maybe she simply needed some rest.

She didn’t hear the rumbling of her stomach. Nor did she hear the panic in the woman’s voice as she inspected her dragon form more closely. Her mind drifted off, accompanied by a combination of different voices. They sounded far away, as if hidden beneath a layer of snow. ‘Twas as it should be. Tired dragons needed sleep.


	29. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana isn't sure what she's doing. All she knows is that she doesn't want to leave Morrigan's side.

“Oghren! Something is wrong!” She would have called Kaala if she could, but the elf had walked away quite a bit; Leliana could barely just make her out in the distance between the ruins. Staring at the small figure, she wondered why the young elf would walk that far away, but that thought was interrupted by a huffing and puffing Oghren. He stopped a few paces away, obviously still uncomfortable even with the dragon sound asleep.  
“I don’t know what to do, I mean look at her, she’s all skin and bones!” Leliana knew she was being hysterical, but she simply couldn’t stop worrying over the enormous creature next to her. In the midst of what she had thought would be a transformation or at least some kind of connection between the two of them, the High Dragon had simply closed its eyes and lain down. The beast was snoring peacefully at the moment, however labored her breathing might be.

It still was hard to think of the huge reptile as Morrigan, but she at least knew it to be true after their encounter in the clouds.  
“What happened?” She was bent over the enormous dragon’s skull, watching the steady breaths leave the nostrils that were bigger than her own head.  
“I don’t kn… I’m not sure. She just… she went down.” For the first time since the dragon had collapsed, Leliana looked at the amulet in her hand. The amulet that had caused all this. Or… a lot of this. The connection the hair had to Morrigan was undeniable, as even while the witch was sleeping here in her dragon form, the locket that held the strand of hair together glowed in an unearthly way. Purple and warm was the light emanating from the jewelry. For a moment the rogue was glad that it didn’t burn her hand still, but her relief was soon overshadowed when the gigantic dragon next to her sniffled slightly in its sleep.

“She’s sleeping while prey is nearby…,” Leliana whispered. For a moment the small dwarf just stared at her, but then his eyes grew wide in understanding:  
“You mean _us_.” “I…”  
“You just called us prey!”  
“I… well… no, I mean… yes, but… we are prey to her. I’m not certain how much she remembers. I saw bits and pieces of her memories, jagged pictures and nothing made sense. It’s all foggy and confusing, Oghren.”  
“But you’re sure this… _creature_ is Morrigan?”

“I think so.” Her hand came to rest on the dragon’s skull, gently stroking one of the scales that shimmered brighter than the others. Another huff escaped the High Dragon’s nostrils, and scared Leliana somewhat, until she realized it might as well have been a sigh. There it was. The connection she had felt so many times before. A tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach, strong and relentless.

However strong it felt, it was weak compared to the intensity of the bond they had shared in the skies. She had felt Morrigan’s whole being envelop her in purple tufts of energy, embracing her, swallowing her whole. They had become one entity with one purpose and one line of thought. It had been more intense than anything she had ever experienced before that. Now she could tell that the mage had reached her limits. She could feel the energy coursing through Morrigan’s body, but it was weak and streaked with red, as if someone had ripped bloody holes into it. It was a sight Leliana was accustomed to, something she saw fairly often.

The animals she frequently called to help them in their fights, they had the same ragged aura, no matter which color the animals had in the beginning, their aura turned more red the more they were hurt. This, here, this was not an exception. The aura before her, no matter its size, it was the same as the other animals’ aura she had seen on their travels. It was weak. Red. Deep red, indicating that something was beyond wrong. That the creature was hurting. Leliana’s heart went out to the dragon; to the woman she… _loved_.

“I need to do something.”

* * *

“Are you even serious?! You can’t just ‘ _stay here’_ with her!”  
“I can and I will, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise!”  
“Listen, you have to come with us, she will be fine!”  
“If you could see her aura, you wouldn’t say that! Don’t you care about her?! You connected to her, it was your friendship that brought her down, that made her realize you’re not food!”  
“I know…”  
“Then let me stay! Take Zevran if you’re so keen on picking locks!”  
“It isn’t that, you know that! I can pick the blasted locks myself!”  
“Then whyyyyyy?!”  
“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT YOU GETTING HURT AGAIN!”

Leliana stepped up to the elf and took her hands; tenderly.  
“I won’t. I promise. She won’t hurt me.” Hugging the smaller woman, the bard pushed her away and held her at arm’s length for a moment, looking into green eyes.  
“Listen, I need to take care of her. Don’t you understand that, Kaala? I need to… I need to be there for her.” _Like you were for me._

The Dalish elf shook her head, a grim look shadowing her usually so friendly face.  
“I know.” Then Kaala turned around, waving for Oghren and Kahless to follow. Leliana could just barely make out the wetness in her eyes before the elf had turned around completely, but she chose not to comment on it.

* * *

When Leliana cut the deer’s throat, there was a determined yet sad look in her eyes. She had never used her skill as a ranger for the hunt before. She preferred actually stalking the animals or setting traps. Somehow, willing them to come for her had never crossed her mind. Even when she hadn’t caught something, she had never needed to resort to her abilities.

Today was different. She had pondered whether she should leave the sleeping dragon, whether she should go and hunt the proper way, but she had decided against it. Morrigan was not safe down here. Had the dragon fallen asleep atop her mountain cliff, things would be different, but down here, she didn’t feel that the witch was safe. At any time someone might come up the mountain, who knows what was going on down at the foot of the mountain; their companions might be dead already, killed by Darkspawn or fanatics.

She let the lifeless body drop to the ground, watching the snow soak up the blood that was flowing freely from the neck of the small animal.  
“You better eat this. Or else…,” she muttered, as she moved a few paces away, sitting down on one of the bigger rocks. It was not that she was afraid of the dragon, it was Morrigan after all, but she also was not sure how the beast inside of her would react to fresh meat. As of yet, the dragon had not stirred, so she decided to help her along.

Picking up one of the rocks on the ground, she instinctively closed her eyes before she flung the hard object at the dragon’s head, anticipating a cry of outrage as well as some fire or… in fact, she did _not_ know what to expect. When hit by the stone, the dragon didn’t even flinch, however Leliana could see one of the eyes opening lazily, taking in the surroundings. Fixating on her.

That did not bode well.

Leliana gulped, uncertain how to proceed. Stiff and slightly afraid she sat there and waited for the dragon to move. Should Morrigan choose to attack, she would not survive. Her weapons were safely planted next to a bundle at the foot of the rock she was sitting on. Not the smartest idea she had ever had.

She was lucky. The dragon’s enormous nostrils picked up the fresh blood and within moments the dead animal was crushed by sharp fangs and swallowed hole. Leliana watched as the reptile enjoyed its food, and so she didn’t miss the moment when yellow eyes turned into something else.  
“What…”

With unbelievable speed the dragon had advanced on her, and it was all she could do to press herself against the cold hard stone she had been sitting on. The gigantic head of the dragon was mere inches from her face, forcing her body into a lying position atop the rock. _Between a rock and a hard place._ The situation she was in was so beyond normal that she almost laughed out loud.

Instead, her body chose to whimper. The obviously hungry creature was drooling all over her armor, and if Leliana hadn’t been too afraid to move even a single finger, she would have shoved the slobbering beast aside. That was not meant to happen, however. So she just lay there, staring at the purple scales and white teeth in front of her face, hoping she would not end up like the deer she had offered the witch.

They seemed to stay like that forever, neither of them moving much, except for the dragon’s snarls. A skinless mouth just hung above her, from time to time swaying to the left or right, fixating her with a yellow glowing eye.

She couldn’t have been sure what prompted her to move, but she did, surprising herself as well as the female dragon. One of her hands found the way to the pointed tip of the reptile’s nose, resting there for mere moments before the beast shook its head and got rid of the apparently unwanted touch. Leliana was glad that Morrigan didn’t attack, but that alone just was not enough. She would have to help the witch remember, to make her revert into her old form so she could hug her and keep her close and never let go.

“Morrigan,” the dragon’s head snapped up at the word, listening intently.  
“Morrigan, it’s me. Leliana. You…” _love me.  
_ “You’re my friend.” When no reaction came forth, the bard decided to try a different approach. She closed her eyes and focused on the locket she wore, hoping to connect with the witch on another level yet again. She let her spirit flow and was instantly greeted by dark purple tendrils floating around her, still streaked with red, but hardly as off-putting and frightening as before the dragon had fed.

Leliana tentatively let their auras meet, and when she felt no resistance, she started sending pictures, memories, trying to trigger the dragon to remember who she really was. There was no spark of sudden recognition, nothing, but the rogue kept trying, until she felt like she couldn’t keep it up anymore. She was growing tired fast. Her body needed rest. It was with that thought in mind that she detached from the dragon’s presence and went back into her own body, feeling ever more tired now that she was in this human form again. Without thinking, she pushed the dragon away like an annoying dog.

The result of her action presented itself to her when she clambered down the rock. Morrigan had curled up, the previously slobbering head neatly folded on top of her long tail. Golden eyes watched her curiously as she made her way to the fire that Oghren had made earlier while Leliana had argued with the Warden. It was almost gone, but a few branches did the trick and as it started licking at the wood, Leliana instantly felt better.

“You know, you have it easy. I present you with food, you eat it, and now you get to curl up and sleep without being bothered by the freezing cold up here…” With that, Leliana huddled under the makeshift tent she had built, a pelt and linens held up by two branches. It was still cold, but with the help of the boulders nearby it at least protected her from the wind.

* * *

When she awoke she realized that breathing was becoming an issue. Opening her eyes, she stared into absolute darkness and her hands found fabric on all sides. Apparently her tent had collapsed overnight. And since no one had woken her, it meant her companions were still gone. Off to get the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Leliana wondered what had happened to them while clawing her way out of the mess of linens and pelts. Once she was outside, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. While she had slept, the dragon had crawled closer and curled around her, destroying her makeshift tent in the process.

So now she was stuck between the dragon’s slowly moving chest and massive head. It was surprisingly warm and comfortable, and before she knew it, she was falling asleep again, safely wrapped in a High Dragon’s embrace.


	30. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is that skinny thing prey? Morrigan isn't sure.

Dawn was barely upon them when Morrigan awoke. She lazily spread her wings, trying to get more blood to flow into her extremities. The sleeping form she was cradling didn’t even stir when she moved her head to look at the human more closely; Leliana, the woman had called herself. Leliana. The name sounded familiar and not entirely unpleasant, yet it was hard to connect it to the peaceful face resting between her limbs.

She was hungry. The deer she had eaten the day before had sent a warm sensation throughout her entire body, yet now she longed for it yet again. Her stomach was nowhere near full and she ached for something to fill it.

Lost in her musings, she did not notice the warm body stirring on top of her claws until a sleepy voice penetrated her thoughts:

“Mornin’…”

The rogue looked delicious. Skin was barely visible because the human had covered herself in pelts and fabrics, but what little the dragon could see was more than appetizing. A snarl forced the red-haired woman to look up at her; blue eyes wide with surprise and something akin to fear. A part of her enjoyed the frightened look, reveled in the intensifying smell of fear.

The dragon could feel her mouth watering in anticipation of the next meal. _This_ meal.

“Morrigan…,” the bard said when she realized what was going through the High Dragon’s mind. A never-ending and persistent growl formed in the base of her throat, reverberating inside of her and shaking the human form by doing so. Untangling herself from the mess of blankets and human limbs, she arched her back and hissed at the human, lowering her head just enough so it was floating right before a dumbstruck rogue.

The hunger was all-consuming. It took all of her willpower to keep from snapping the puny legs apart and swallow the bard whole. Prey. This tiny little human was nothing more than prey. And she was starving.

‘Twas a skinny thing, to be sure, but it looked delicious nonetheless. Even more so when she heard the sound of her stomach grumbling.

When she edged closer to the suddenly wide awake woman and she could see her breaths shaking the red hair playfully. It was moving towards her when she breathed in, and whisked away when she breathed out. For a moment she was lost in the innocent movement of human hair. But then her nostrils registered the scent of the human. Fear and a whiff of anger, mixed with something she could not describe. It smelled unmistakably human and familiar in a sense that she was certain she had smelled it before. But for the life of her, she could not remember when and where.

She pressed her watering mouth against the trembling face of the bard, but nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.  
The instant their bodies connected, the human entered her mind in much the same way she had done the day before. Morrigan’s mind scrambled to understand what was going on. The emerging light blue aura forced itself upon her and wrapped her with a warmth she had never felt before. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her time atop this massive mountain.

“I love you.”

Her heart stopped.

For a moment, neither of them moved and time seemed to stand still. Then the rogue seemed to overcome the shock of sending her these thoughts. The warm blue aura retreated and vanished inside the redhead, whose face was the picture perfect of utter confusion and horror. Shaking hands covered the human’s face when she caught Morrigan staring.

Forgotten were scrumptious thighs and crispy arms, forgotten was the aching hunger she had felt when she had awoken. This creature was not prey. This creature was everything _but_ prey.

A screech filled the cold air as the High Dragon took flight. Gliding over this world of endless white, she calmed down enough to think and remember her hunger.

An entirely human emotion overcame her, sending her down to hide in the vast forest; presumably to look for prey, but ‘twas not so. ‘Twas regret that sent her there. Regret. She should not have flown away, she should have stayed. And yet, she did not understand why she felt that way.

* * *

The cougar she spooked fled quickly as she landed on top of its prey. ‘Twas a mountain goat, an enormous beast, even for its species. To be fair, this was not her prey, and her finding it had been more luck than skill, but she was hungry and desperate for a meal that didn’t force her to move more than necessary.

The flesh was still warm and hot blood filled her mouth as she ripped off the head while holding onto the body with her front claw. She shivered with delight when the hot meat slid down her throat, closing her eyes with pleasure. Taking her time, she devoured the goat piece by piece, enjoying every single part.

The plump goat filled her stomach rather nicely and for a moment she was amazed by her utter luck. Curling up into a ball, she made herself comfortable. She needed rest.

* * *

Hours passed yet she did not dare return to the mountain top. She knew the red-haired woman would be looking for her. She knew. But yet again, she did not know why. Somehow it felt like something the lithe warrior would do, ‘twas only logical. Yet how did she know?

As she was lying in the snow, wagging her tail lazily, she realized she was full. She had not eaten this much in months and now she felt a pleasant warmth spreading through her, starting in the pit of her stomach. It took her a while to acknowledge that this sensation had been there all along, a long ways before she had actually eaten. Apparently, her empty stomach had proven enough of a distraction so she had not realized.

The redheaded elf. Their bonding in the skies.  
“My friend.” She closed her eyes.

The beast inside her was starting to take over again, and she feared for what it would make her do this time. She was herself, but yet she was not. The darkness was taking over, the beast, the part of her that did not concern itself with those human emotions that had started to develop inside of her. Confusing they were, but also surprisingly pleasing and welcome. Not like the darkness that kept coming back and took over in the most unfortunate moments.

She pondered for a long time before she reached the conclusion that she must return. She did not want to, but return she must, if she wanted the two redheads to be safe. From her. She could not know how deep she would get lost in the darkness again. And she did not care to find out. To stay herself, to feel even remotely as free as she had this past day, she would have to go back to the utterly confusing proximity of the human. The human called Leliana.

She had to return to safety. To safety and… love.


	31. The Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaala and her bad decisions...

_The wind was howling stronger now, and heavy snow whipped past her face. Kaala shrugged. She was cold. The emotional turmoil of the last days had finally caught up with her when she had watched the two auras merge into one. That had been hours ago, and now she was standing here, separate from the others; Kahless -who had finally returned after accompanying Oghren back to the safety of his rocks- whining at her feet because she didn’t pay him any attention. She absentmindedly pet his head, still lost in her thoughts, trying to figure out what had happened a few hours ago…_

* * *

“You let her go?” Kaala had a comforting hand resting on Leliana’s shoulder, squeezing her slightly through the tough material of her armor. The girl was sobbing quietly, her face buried in her shaking hands.

“What was I supposed to do, Kaala? You weren’t here! None of you were! I was alone and… I was scared.” She whispered the last part, and the elf got the distinct feeling that the human rogue blamed herself for what had happened.  
“It’s not your fau-“  
“Of course it is,” the bard hissed, her sadness forgotten for the time being, when blue eyes shone bright with anger.

“Of course it is,” she said much more quietly, leaning her head to the side to rest on Kaala’s hips. The elf watched her quietly, pressing her reassuringly from time to time, but otherwise staying quiet. Her eyes rested on still sleep-tousled hair, wondering how much more of this confusion and pain the younger woman would be able to take. She wanted to protect her, keep her safe from any harm. Even if that harmful presence was one of her closest friends. Kaala swallowed awkwardly, painfully aware of Oghren watching her every move like a hawk. In the last few weeks he had barely spent time with her, and she felt like he was suspicious of her feelings for Leliana.

A shiver ran down her spine, creating goosebumps on her forearms in its dying moments. Suddenly she was cold, even in her adequately stuffed armor. As she watched a breath of air playing with tendrils of snow in the cold sky, she realized what she must do. She would do anything for Leliana. She always had. Her feet started walking of their own accord, and it was no surprise that they lead her into the direction where the dragon had disappeared. Thick forest and a steep slope greeted her, but she did not care. She needed to find the transformed witch and somehow get her friend back. Her friends back. Leliana had not been the same for a long time now; maybe helping her get Morrigan back would change things. Maybe then Kaala would get both of her friends back. And all three of them could finally be happy.

She snorted. How sickeningly naïve she was at times. Of course she would never be truly happy as long as Morrigan was the one Leliana seemed to… love. But she would die before she let anything come between the two of them. They were just what both of them needed. And the last few months had been proof enough of that.

Her foot stepped over the rocky cliff, and she hung on to one of the trees, trying to slow down her decent.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

Leliana had come out of nowhere, her glove-covered hand had enveloped her wrist and kept her from wildly rushing down the slope.  
“What?! I’m just trying to do what is best for you, don’t you see that? You need her! I’m just trying to bring her back!”

The utter confusion on the redhead’s face was almost comical, until delicate brows furrowed in anger:  
“Who do you even think you are? Deciding everything on your own, rushing off without saying a single word?! Oghren is pissed, and so am I!”  
“Don’t make me a part of your lover’s spat,” Oghren could be heard in the background. Angry blue eyes bored into Kaala’s green ones, and she was shocked at the anger she found in those usually so calm orbs.  
“This is _anything_ but that! Anything! But! That!”

Never before had she seen Leliana this angry. Her cheeks were still tear streaked and her eyes already red and puffy. However, the air surrounding the lithe human was pregnant with emotions that could not be further from sadness.  
“Are you even listening??!”

Actually, Kaala wasn’t. Her eyes were trained on the huge figure coming their way.

The dragon landed in the frost covered snow with a crunch, sending the lower layers of powdery snow flying in all directions. Morrigan’s sudden disappearance brought the two rogues’ argument to an abrupt end.  
“By…”  
“…the…”  
“…Maker!”  
“…Ancestors!!”  
“…Dread Wolf!”

Morrigan’s answering roar sent shivers through Kaala’s body and she could just barely resist taking a step back to bring at least some amount of distance between her and the beast. Oghren, in the meantime, readied his battle axe, holding it between him and the roaring beast.  
“Warden! I am sick of this game of friend or foe, if she was truly the witch, she would be able to transform! We can’t stay here and wait until she feels ready to turn back. _I_ won’t wait until she’s ready. We’ve got Darkspawn to kill and an Archdemon, who, by the way, _is a dragon_!”

Oghren stomped away, backwards at first, leaving a speechless Kaala, a dragon and an obviously still angry bard behind. After a moment’s hesitation, Kahless followed him, jumping through the snow like a happy and harmless puppy.  
“Go away, mutt,” the dwarf muttered. “I need solid rock above my head!” With that, the changed direction towards the tunnel entrance, muttering curses as he did.

The elf looked at Leliana, trying to figure out what the redhead was thinking. The scowl forming on that beautiful face worried her for a moment until she realized it was not directed at her. Apparently the bard had forgotten about their argument, or at the very least chosen to forgo that in favor of staring at the massive creature that was threatening them at this moment.

Morrigan was a sight to behold. Her wings were spread out, forming a sort of roof over her head, and her enormous teeth shone bright white against the purple of her scales. She had her head hanging low again, her legs bent and her backside up in the air, like a cat that was about to pounce.

Kaala swallowed. Her eyes went from one friend to the other and back, trying to decide how to react if something disastrous was about to happen. She did not like the way saliva was collecting around the dragon’s tongue, threatening to spill out and drop onto the immaculate snow. Her elven ears could pick up the low growl coming from Morrigan’s chest, too quiet for the human next to her to notice, she was sure, but loud enough for her to pick up on it. It was an eerie sound, coming from a giant beast like that, because it sounded so profoundly human.

Time seemed to stand still and neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Leliana and her watched the dragon take a step forward, head swaying from side to side. It was a threatening position the witch was in, without a doubt. And Kaala felt like prey. Yet again.

Trying to decide how to react to Morrigan’s slow progress, her focus went back to the bard, trying to gauge her reaction. Leliana didn’t pay any attention to her; ever since Morrigan had landed, her focus had been solely on the dragon, her eyes trained on that gigantic head in front of them. Her eyebrows were furrowed dangerously, her expression that of a person set out to kill. Blue eyes sparkled. The dragon and human had stared at each other for quite some time now, neither of them moving. Kaala watched the beast’s pupils dilate and its nostrils widen when a gust of wind swept through the bard’s hair. She was aware of what the dragon was unwillingly showing, but she did not dare interrupt their silent battle. She had had her share. And plenty of it. A yelling Leliana was rarely fun, and less so even when she was hurt.

She was about to leave the two of them to their battle of wills, when the beast suddenly lunged forward.

Before she knew what was happening, she threw a Punch.


	32. The Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic. Something Kaala simply doesn't understand.

_She hadn’t thought about what she would do should the dragon make such an unexpected move. Now that she had time to think about it, she remembered her Dar’Misu or Leliana’s scimitars. Remembered that she could have chosen to act differently. If she indeed would have had the time to think. But she had not. She had acted on instinct, and instinct alone. Her reaction had been stupid and brave. Just like her. A sad laugh erupted from within her, and Kaala was glad that no one could hear. Today had been more exhausting than she wanted to admit. Flopping down onto the cold ground, she snuggled into Kahless’ short but warm coat, hiding her face in his neck when she started to cry._

* * *

Leliana’s “Don’t!!” came much too late. Kaala’s fist collided with scales that were hard and had a real edge to them. She could feel her skin rupturing under the pressure; a soundless scream forced her lips open in agony, and a burst of energy shot through her body when she connected with the dragon.

Her arm felt numb. The impact had shaken her to the core; the thrust reverberating in all of her body. She felt spent and weak and could hardly stand up straight. The energy that had shot through her body on impact had sent white hot pain into all of her limbs, until it had subsided and left her standing there on shaking feet.

When she looked up, she saw something she would not have expected in a million years. The dragon –the witch, was cowering in front of her, a majestic head halfway tucked away under leathery wings. A golden eye stared at her, but shifted away when she stared right back. It was almost as if the dragon was ashamed. Or afraid.

“You punched her…,” Leliana whispered from behind her, barely audible. Her voice was throaty and dry, as if she had swallowed a lump.  
“Wow, thanks for stating the obvious, Leli…,” Kaala responded dryly. The shock she had experienced because of her own actions just now, it still sat deep and her voice reflected that. She tried to sound nonchalant, but she knew she was far off and sounded rather like a squeaky mouse instead of the giant Mabari she had envisioned.

Slowly and shaking she turned towards the bard, trying to ascertain the state the younger woman was in. It was then that she realized that the sudden burst of energy and pain had not come from Morrigan. The redhead’s chest was radiating with purple light, and it took the elf a moment to figure out that it was the amulet that emitted the eerie color. Although the jewelry was safely tucked away beneath the bard’s armor, she could clearly see its outline beneath the rough leather. It was glowing bright purple, a color Kaala had never seen before in nature.

She watched Leliana staring at her chest, her eyes mesmerized and frightened. Shaking hands moved up to cradle the glowing amulet after pulling it out of her armor. She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. As she stared at her friend, she saw the light going out of her friend’s eyes, until they looked like they were staring into nothingness. No one remained inside the human, and the dead eyes were proof of that. Kaala was transfixed. What was happening?! She could tell that the magic coming from Leliana was strong, so strong she felt sparks bursting on her skin. Purple tendrils snaked around the bard’s lithe body, enveloped it; trapped it, really. Leliana gasped and the elf could feel how scared she was of this unknown power. She wanted to help, wanted to do _something_ to be of use, but her limbs weren’t complying. She looked down to try and force her limbs to move by sheer force of will, but to no avail.

Movement to her left caught her attention. Was Morrigan moving again? No… her eyes widened when she realized what she was seeing. The dragon –her friend, was starting to evaporate. Heavy and hard scales flickered before slowly falling away to nothing, leaving only tiny flecks of dust behind.

A scream shook her to the core.

It was Morrigan. The dragon fought hard against the inevitable, but no matter how much she resisted, her scales were smoldering and falling apart, sending small tendrils of smoke rising to the sky. Soon Morrigan was covered in blackness, the enormous body hidden by layers of smoke and ash.

High pitched dragon screams made the elf wince and she resisted the urge to cover her ears. It took all of her willpower to keep her hands by her side. She could feel her eardrum vibrating; a dull headache forming in the base of her skull. Her legs finally gave out, but not before she threw one final glance at Leliana, who hadn’t moved even a bit. The magic surrounding her had, however. Purple tufts of energy rose from the bard, reaching out like they had a mind of their own. The sizzling energy moved closer and closer, so close Kaala was actually afraid of what might happen if it touched her. Her legs were too heavy to move, her body aching ever since her stupid stunt. She wasn’t going anywhere. Even if she wanted to.

When purple tendrils snaked past her head, she could feel the bursting energy on her skin, sparks flying in her direction, sizzling on her skin and making her scream in agony…

And then it all stopped.

When she recovered from the blast, she found herself a good distance away in the snow, her eyes instantly focusing on the spectacle in front of her.

A huge purple sphere was floating in the air, specks of dust floating away from it, as if someone had set thousands of books on fire. The air was sizzling with sparks, and in the midst of it all was Leliana’s tiny form. Her body was rigid, purple and glowing, and as far as Kaala could tell, the redhead still wasn’t aware of what was going on.

The skies had darkened considerably, as all the energy surrounding the unlikely pair of Leliana and what used to be Morrigan seemed to have been sucked towards them, making Kaala feel weaker than even before. Her heart was hammering in her chest, she was scared and nervous and on the verge of breaking down because she didn’t understand. And then she saw it. A flicker. The giant sphere seemed to shrink for a moment, and if she had blinked, she would have missed it. But there it was again. And again. What was going on?

Thunder growled in the distance and then Kaala found herself in the worst blizzard she had ever experienced. Snow was everywhere all of a sudden, penetrating her ears and nose, clouding her vision. She needed to get Leliana out of here. Now.

For once, her feet seemed to follow orders, as she pushed herself into a standing position and staggered towards the center of the chaos. She couldn’t see much, so she simply forced her way through the gusts of snow, always following the eerie purple glow. She felt weak and tired and oh so old. She just wanted to lie down and fall asleep. The snow pushing against her was hard, cold and heavy and offered much more resistance than she could bear.

Her feet gave out and she fell down onto her knees, her face landing in the snow shortly after. This was too much.

* * *

She didn’t know how long she’d been lying there. Her body felt cold and stiff. Snow had come to rest on her lashes, tickling her as she opened her eyes. The blizzard was gone. She forced her protesting body into a crouching position, keeping her hands on the ground, trying to find a way to get up and go wherever. But preferably somewhere warm.

Sobs made her head jerk around. And then she remembered.

Leliana.

Morrigan.

Magic.

A coarse laugh escaped her lips as she rushed towards the sound, hoping not to find the disaster she was imagining. Her vision was blurry and the world surrounding her was entirely too dark considering it was still daytime. Or was it?

“Leliana? … Leliana!” Her voice was weak and barely loud enough to reach her own ears, and there was something else, too. Something she hadn’t noticed earlier. Wetness. She stopped dead in her tracks for a moment, looking down at the hand that had just wiped her mouth and cheek. She was greeted by the familiar color of fresh blood. That, and the realization that the iron taste in her mouth hadn’t registered with her because she had been too focused on other things. But now that it did, it made her gag. Coughing and sputtering, she continued walking towards what she hoped would be Leliana; pushing herself further and further, completely ignoring the bloody trail she left behind.

“Leli…” Cough. Why was everything so dark? She knew she was slowly losing consciousness, but even then, she could not stop stumbling into the direction of the pained crying she was hearing.

“Leliana…”

And then she saw her. Leliana.

Her body was limp and cradled in the arms of someone she had not expected to see.


	33. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited they may be, but Morrigan can't help but keep pushing them away.

“Morrigan…”

Her head snapped up at the unexpected sound. ‘Twas her name, yet it sounded wrong and foreign. Her sobs came to a stop for a moment as she remembered who this was.  
“Kaala.”  
“Yes. Morrigan, what…” She watched the small figure slumping down next to her, small hands coming to rest on the motionless body between the two of them.  
“What… what happened? Why isn’t she moving?!” Frantic hands ran over the length of the human rogue’s body, trying to find the source of Leliana’s unconsciousness.

“I do not know. I remember… I do not remember much.” And, with a concerned glance towards the elf:  
“You are bleeding.” She cleared her throat, trying to get a grip on her voice –which sounded raw and deep, and the process of speaking was entirely unpleasant.  
Her hand, having a mind of its own, reached out to wipe away the blood that had formed beneath the elf’s nose and then proceeded to cup a sickly pale cheek. Her thumb brushed over sunken in cheeks, and a weak smile graced her lips when she saw the Warden’s eyes close in response.

“You are not well.”  
“Neither are you.”  
“Neither is she.”  
“We’re quite the trio.”  
“That we are.”

She let go of the elf then, acutely aware of her state of undress for the first time since she had woken next to an unconscious bard. Thinking of the woman in her arms, she looked down at the sleeping form and let her hands wander. Trembling fingers ghosted over pale cheekbones, mirroring the way she had touched the elf just moments ago. She could feel the bard’s even breathing on her fingers, and she was glad for it. When she had woken, she had thought the woman dead. Dead because of her. As she had told Kaala, she did not remember much. What she was sure of, however, was the fact that none of them would be here if not for her.

“I’m sleepy.” Guilt reached up inside of her and crushed her heart. She blinked away a tear and felt it descend down her face. She gulped angrily, trying to suppress the unpleasant feeling. She needed to get out of here. Her legs were cold and she could not feel her toes. Uncertain whether this was actually because of the cold or the fact that she had been kneeling with the bard in her arms for what seemed like eternity, she chose to ignore the pain in her limbs and instead focus on the bleeding rogue and unconscious bard.

Her eyes went up to connect with the Warden’s, but what she saw instead made her whisper anxiously.  
“Kaala…” She reached for the elf and brushed away the hair that was covering her face now that her head had come to rest on Leliana’s chest.  
“Kaala!” ‘Twas impossible not to hear the tremor in her voice.  
“Kaala, wake up you sickeningly stubborn elf!” She went from concern to anger in less than a heartbeat. Her heart flowing over with emotions that she didn’t know how to handle.

“Please…” Tears slipped down her face freely at last.  
“Please wake up. … Don’t… don’t leave me alone.”  
“I won’t,” a voice croaked. “I’m just so tired.”  
“Leliana?”  
“Mh.”

She almost started laughing hysterically when a shaking hand took hold of hers and pulled it to quivering lips, placing a kiss on her palm.  
“I’m not going anywhere.”  
“Very well then.” Full of relief, she hugged the slender body of the bard and buried her face in soft, cold hair. Her nose dug deeper into the soft red, reveling in the fragrance that was unmistakably all Leliana.

A whisper.

“Morrigan?”  
“Yes?”  
“Are you… are you naked?”

Her eyes flew open and it took all her willpower to not push the bard away and huddle somewhere to hide. Apart from the fact that there was no place nearby where she could actually hide, she also did not want to let go of the bard. Oddly enough.  
“She is.”  
“Of course you would pick this time to wake up, you pesky creature.”  
“What can I say, you love me.” Kaala yawned and wiped away more blood from her nose and mouth.  
“Hmpf.”  
“I think I bit my tongue or something.”

“Are you certain you are alright?”  
“Worried about me, are you?”  
“Morrigan, I think you should put on some clothes. You look… like you’re cold.” At that, Morrigan and the elf both looked down at Leliana’s sleepy eyes and followed their path to… her incredibly erect nipples.

“How dare you!” Instantly letting go of the bard, she sent both rogues tumbling to the ground; of course they started complaining and cursing respectively. Her hands flew up to cover her breasts, and although she had never been modest, the thought that the elf and the Orlesian could just look at her made her feel utterly uncomfortable.  
“Stop staring! Both of you!”  
“I wasn’t…”  
“I was.”  
“Kaala!”  
“Be quiet!” For once, the two overactive children seemed inclined to listen to her. Morrigan felt exposed and scared all of a sudden, barely containing the whimper that escaped her lips at the realization.

She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, desperately trying to calm the thoughts racing in her head. She needed time to think, time to process. This was not at all what she needed right now. And although it had felt wonderful to hold the bard close, she did not want to deal with the ramifications of earlier events. Not yet. Not now. Not here.

She got up and walked a few paces on unsteady feet, extremely aware of her naked form and the view she was surely presenting the two whispering women behind her. Choosing to ignore the instinct to cover her behind with her hands, she became conscious of the fact that her feet didn’t feel the cold anymore and it worried her. As she was about to examine her sickeningly blue looking feet, she heard the familiar crunch of boots on snow. Maybe Leliana had found something to cover her with.

“Here, take this.” She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the male voice directly behind her. Oghren’s voice was gruff and matter-of-fact, but the way he held the furs he was offering he shielded her from any unwanted views -even his own- and for that she was grateful.

“We should get inside. You’re going to freeze to death out here.” Leliana’s voice was quiet and weak, and when Morrigan turned around, she found her and the elf leaning on each other. Something inside her snapped.

“Yes,” she huffed. “We should.”

* * *

She ignored the pointed look Oghren threw her way and stumbled towards the mountain’s entrance. Too aware was she of the things being said. Too aware of her body’s reaction to seeing the bard so close to the elf. She was definitely not amused. Her eyebrows formed into a scowl as she listened to the words being spoken behind her. Quietly. As if she couldn’t hear.  
“What has gotten into her? … Are you alright?”  
“…I don’t know.”  
“I’m just glad to have her back.”  
“But is it really her? Can we be sure?”  
“Oghren…”

“Where is the mangy beast? Did you lose it or have it for breakfast?” She had tried to stop her words, but to no avail. They were harsh but the tremor in her voice surely helped her companions to see through the façade.  
The silence behind her told her everything she needed to know. Hugging the furs tighter around herself, she quickened her steps towards the tunnel entrance.  
“I sent Kahless to go and get the others when I saw the blizzard come in. It will take them a while.”  
“You… you sent my dog in there alone?”  
“He’ll be alright. He’s tough as stone.”  
“That he is.”

“Kaala, you’re getting heavy…”  
“I’m sorry… I’m just tired.”  
“Don’t you dare fall asleep now!”  
“I… I won’t…”

“By the Maker, get to your feet, woman!”  
“Is the knife-ear unconscious again?”  
“I don’t know. … Morrigan where are you going?”  
“Inside. I have had enough of your insipid babbling for today.” Against her better knowledge and despite her words, she stood still, waiting for her companions to catch up to her. The quick glance she threw at Kaala surely hadn’t been noticed by the other two. Or so she hoped. The small figure looked even more sickly in the light of the afternoon sun, pale and frighteningly thin. She did not allow her face to betray her thoughts, however. That would not do.

The fact that she was worrying and concerned for the lithe creature hanging limply between the tall rogue and small dwarf unsettled her to no end. She did not care for such things. Companionship. Friendship. Love. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the images that had forced their way into her mind just now.

“Will you be able to keep up with me or do I need to summon an ice giant to carry you inside and out of this frozen nightmare?” For a heartbreakingly long moment hers and Leliana’s eyes met, until she bowed her head and turned away in shame. She did not mean to lash out. She knew for a fact that it was only thanks to the bard that she was even standing here, although she still could not comprehend why. Yet the presence of the other two people made her wary and uncomfortable. Showing weakness now, now that she was the picture of helplessness, it would not do. Her rough mouth was the only thing protecting her at this time. Protecting her from being looked at with pitying eyes.

In the corner of her eye, she could see Leliana shaking her head to Oghren when he opened his mouth to say something, and surprisingly enough, the dwarf understood and obeyed.  
“Let’s just get inside. I’m freezing.” Morrigan knew full well that Leliana wasn’t talking about herself. She might have a foggy memory, but she certainly was not stupid enough to believe the words coming from the bard.

“Certainly.” With that she turned towards the ruins once again, the ruins that promised shelter at their end.

“Do you think she’ll be alright?”  
“Kaala?”  
“Morrigan.”  
“I… I don’t know, Oghren. I don’t know.”

* * *

“Do you think it will take the others long to catch up with us?”  
“I don’t know. Bugger them. I knew I shouldn’t have left our stuff lying there, and now it’s all gone because of that blasted blizzard.” She heard Leliana sigh.  
“Oghren, it’s not your fault. No one expected… No one expected… _that_.”

“Magic… It’s unpredictable and treacherous.” Leliana nodded.  
“It is.” Blue eyes found hers again and for all the furs that she was covered with, Morrigan felt naked all the same. The woman just looks right through her and into her soul. ‘Twas frightening.

She had seated herself next to one of the hot springs inside this cavern, hoping the heat would somehow penetrate her freezing body. So far, it had not helped. The only thing she had accomplished was separating herself from the others, as they had spread out on the other side of the spring, giving her some amount of freedom. Only the stupid dog remained by her side, seemingly unfazed by his unconscious owner. Apparently, the elf was alright, otherwise the beast would surely not stray from her side.

Her eyes fell closed several times as she got lost in thought, and this time she was only woken by a paw on her bare foot. The Mabari had made itself comfortable, its giant head resting on its paws, dark eyes looking up at her expectantly.  
“What is it you want, you dirty mongrel? I have no food, no scraps, you best go and bother the others.” A low whine was her answer and she resisted the urge to rid herself of the hound by kicking him in the nose.  
“Suit yourself.”

It was then that her eyes drifted away, only to meet piercing blue eyes yet again. A questioning look was in them, hidden in the depths of sapphire orbs. Morrigan watched as the bard whispered something into Oghren’s ear and started walking over to her.  
“Blasted damnation…”

“No need to curse.” Apparently the rogue’s ears were much more attuned than she had anticipated. Her silent muttering had not been meant for the redhead’s ears, although she was asking herself who it had been for if not for the pesky woman.  
“’Tis a reflex whenever I see you.” Now that made the woman stop dead in her tracks, and for a moment Morrigan felt pride light her insides up and a wicked smile form on her lips. That is until she saw the pain etched on Leliana’s features.  
“I…” She did not know what to say. ‘Twas easy to lash out and hurt the human. She could not understand why she kept pushing the Orlesian away, but it did come naturally. Somehow.

“You can be cruel when you’re scared. I should know that by now.”  
“I am not.”  
“Cruel?” A red eyebrow rose questioningly, even as the rogue sat down on a rock in front of her.  
“Scared.” This made Leliana laugh humorlessly.  
“Of course you’re not.”  
“Why ever should I be?”

“Really, Morrigan? Are we playing this game?” She buried herself further in the furs, trying to pull her feet in so they, too, could warm up a bit. It did help her to steady herself, for although she did not want to admit it, the bard’s words had had an impact on her.  
“I do not play games.”  
“Usually, no, you don’t.”

Another whine and another attention seeking touch of the dog forced her to look back down into brown eyes, realizing that yes, she was playing games. As much as she insulted the dog, called him a mongrel and beast and dirty flea-ridden abomination, she did not want the Mabari to leave. The same applied to the woman sitting in front of her. She might irritate her and it might frighten her that she could not remember what had happened earlier, but Morrigan knew that she did not want Leliana to leave.

“I…”  
“Are you still cold?” The bard’s eyes had zoomed in on her feet, which were still sticking out, exposed to the cold air, despite her best efforts to get them into the relative warmth of the furs. She noticed the discolorations, and she was certain the bard did as well, but she could not be made to care. Toes were not something she deemed important enough to worry about.  
“Morrigan?” She sighed. The redhead was nothing if not persistent.

“I… am.” It took all her strength to force the words out, but once they were, she felt all the lighter for it. The tiniest of smiles formed on Leliana’s face, and the witch could not help but be mesmerized by it. The bard really was beautiful. Frighteningly pale, but beautiful nonetheless.  
“Get up.”  
“What?”

Leliana stood up, offering her a hand.  
“I said get up. We’re going to warm you up.” Morrigan gulped. Whatever the bard had in store for her, it was frightening and exciting all the same.  
“I…”, she said, her hand halfway out of the furs.  
“My, aren’t you eloquent tonight.” A strong hand enveloped hers and then she was on her feet, slightly shaky and certainly out of breath. Why, she did not know.

For once, she kept her mouth shut and simply followed Leliana’s instructions as she led her away from the hot spring and to another one, hidden from view by stalagmites. The only thing giving away its location was the steam rising to the cavern’s roof. Morrigan followed Leliana, albeit hesitantly. The bard was still holding her hand, the unfamiliar touch meant to be reassuring, but instead it made her anxious.

Leliana stopped right in front of the steaming water, pulling the witch closer.  
“You should get in. Your hands are ice cold…” Morrigan watched Leliana’s thumb stroking her hand; slowly, deliberately. It felt surprisingly good, and something inside of her sent a pleasant warmth spreading through all of her body.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she watched goosebumps spread on her arm and hands.  
“You’re cold,” Leliana mumbled. Her hands travelled up Morrigan’s fur-covered arms, slowly pushing the soft pelt from the mage’s shoulders.

Her breathing quickened as she watched the furs fall to the ground, revealing her naked body. Again she felt exposed in more ways than one and her arms instinctively crossed over her chest, trying to hide her from view. A gentle hand on her shoulder led her into the water and her skin prickled as it touched the hot wetness. Whimpers escaped her lips, and her hand reached out to the bard, trying to steady herself.

“Does it feel good?”  
“No.”  
A chuckle, then. “I see.”

A tug on her hand made her look up into icy blue eyes, the smile that graced Leliana’s freckled face lighting them up even more.  
“Will you let me go? I… I’d like to get in there, too.” Her fingers slipped out of Leliana’s, and she took a few unsteady steps back, sinking deeper into the steaming water. The bard’s response was imminent, her face contorted into a frown; sad, yet free of judgment.  
“Or not?”

“No,” she cleared her throat. “No, come in.”

The sweetest smile spread over Leliana’s face as she said it, and Morrigan patiently watched the rogue undress. As she watched the ripple of sinewy muscles beneath freckled skin, her mind brought back a memory; a naked bard appeared before her mind’s eye, trying to hide from her gaze. She was standing in a small stream, her hair wet and her nipples erect.  
“Are you still watching me,” Leliana asked as she bent over to take off her greaves. Morrigan stared fascinated as the younger woman got rid of her armor one by one, dropping pieces of it to the moist cavern floor.

“I am.” Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just said. “I did not mean…”  
“Yes you did.” The Orlesian turned around now, offering Morrigan an unobstructed view of all of her body. Morrigan gulped.

Leliana slipped into the water gracefully, far more gracefully than her battered body should have allowed at this time. Scars and bruises marred her chest and shoulders, and Morrigan wanted to reach out and touch every single one of them, but instead she hid her hands beneath the water’s surface, finally beginning to approve of the warmth emanating from the water.

Her face remained impassive as Leliana walked up to her, but below the water, her fingers were twitching, her hands trembling. Something inside of her was about to give in, she simply could not tell what. ‘Twas all so confusing.

“Morrigan…” Finally Leliana was standing in front of her and then everything went dark as slender arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She let her head drop into the crook of the bard’s neck, her eyes fluttering shut as she breathed in the unique scent that was Leliana. A shiver ran through her body and ‘twas then that she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

Her arms came up to hold the bard tight against her as violent sobs shook her aching body. The only thing keeping her afloat seemed to be the rogue, who held her close with all her strength, mumbling nonsensical words of comfort.  
“I got you.”


	34. Leliana

When she became aware of the deep and regular breathing close to her ear, Leliana came to the conclusion that the witch had fallen asleep in her arms. A slumping body, pulling her deeper into the hot water, confirmed her suspicions.  
The smile that formed on her lips after that realization was nothing but genuinely affectionate.

Her arm came up to pull the heavy body closer, afraid to let go of Morrigan in the steaming wet.  
"I got you, my angry Witch of the Wilds," she whispered, placing a kiss on the tender neck of an unaware Morrigan.

She felt only slightly awkward, handling the naked body of the witch in this manner. However, the steady breathing so gently brushing her hair aside, it made her squirm and conjured images she best kept to herself.

"By the Maker..." When she had led the exhausted and freezing woman into the water, she had not been thinking of anything other than the witch's welfare.

Now, however, the naked body pressed against hers made her curse her needs.

The heavy breaths coming from her parted lips made it all too clear what her body so desperately craved. Attention. She had gone months without release, not because of beliefs or necessity, but for the simple reason that the raven-haired woman had still been missing. Not a single fiber in her body had needed her to touch herself.

Until now. The battered and skinny body of Morrigan was nothing like the voluptuous and curvy woman she remembered. But still, the nipples brushing against her sensitive skin, they were real and seemed to be asking to be touched.

For a moment she thought about waking the mage with a kiss and roaming hands.

Then she felt shaking hands hold her closer, and full lips whispering sleepily.

No. Nothing about this was right. She had wanted for the brunette to warm up, she had wanted to prevent her from losing limbs or freezing to death. And she had. This, her body asking for more, had not been part of the equation.

Pushing her needs aside, she tried to ignore the throbbing sensation between her legs. She was hardly successful. The pulsating walls inside of her were as distracting as a horde of hurlocks coming at them. Nonetheless, she managed to keep her hands in safe places until she felt the sagging body slip deeper into the water.

"Morrigan...", the bard whispered. "Morrigan, wake up." Her fingers were brushing through black tresses framing a much too skinny face. She hardly got any reaction, except for the soft murmurs coming from a sleepy witch.

She tried waking the woman several more times, but to no avail. She needed to either wake her or get her out of the water by herself, and even though the frail body of her companion weighed nothing at all, she did not look forward to having to explain her actions to a furious Witch of the Wilds.

However, as time passed and the mage refused to come to, she turned around in the arms of the mage and unceremoniously carried the naked woman out of the water. To her surprise, there was nothing more than a sigh coming from behind her, as she placed Morrigan on the ground near her clothes.

"Wake up, you stubborn creature..." Covering the still slumbering form with the same furs as before, Leliana kept trying to wake the brunette with her words. Morrigan, however, merely slipped deeper into the furs and continued sleeping, albeit far from peaceful. Low sighs and moans and sometimes shivers forced Leliana to keep an eye on the witch as she put on her armor again.

She sat down next to the murmuring form and absentmindedly put her hand in unusually tousled hair. Her fingers played with the dark tresses, curling them and twisting them into braids.

The moment was ruined by a throaty voice:

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, BOY?”

Aghast, Leliana inched back, away from the threatening growl of the witch.

"Andraste’s blood, you cannot be serious...", she grumbled, ignoring the further mutterings of the angry woman.

She got to her feet and left the cursing Morrigan to herself, rounding the accumulation of stalagmites to find not only Oghren, but also the rest of her companions sitting near one of the other hot springs, talking to a chatty Kaala.

“It was amaaaaazing! I was up there, in the air, and Morrigan was flying higher and higher and I was scared but I wasn't scared and then we sort of melted together and I could feel that she could hear my thoughts and I just wanted her back so much so I told her and then we suddenly went down really fast and...”

Leliana froze, standing there, halfway hidden behind the natural barrier, pondering whether she should join her friends and Kaala's excited storytelling.

But then her eyes went back to the figure sitting behind her, covered by pelts. It was a decidedly pathetic view that presented itself to her: a freezing, muttering and frighteningly malnourished Morrigan was glaring at her with bloodshot eyes, and the usually elegant and arrogant witch was nowhere to be found.

Her heart broke at the sight of her companion, her friend, her lover... her lover. There was nothing in this world she desired more, apart from Morrigan's wellbeing.

"You should have seen it, it was awwwesome! There was this energy everywhere and then Leliana started glowing and by the Dread Wolf, it was glorious!"

Smiling, she went back to the witch, sitting down next to her with a loud thump.

Morrigan didn't even spare her a glance.

* * *

When Morrigan finally stopped muttering, Leliana ached for the comfort of a fire. In the last few hours, the mage had done nothing but growled at her. Or complained about her unwanted advances.

Of course, Leliana's explanations of "you were cold and you needed a hug" were ignored. No, she had wanted to fondle the witch, to take advantage of her in her weakened state and should Morrigan regain her powers, the witch would set her aflame. Thus were the threats the rogue had to listen to. For the most part, she simply ignored them, although she was acutely aware of the fact that they hit surprisingly close to home. The brunette was not in a state to make threats, however, and even if she had her powers, Leliana was certain she would not harm her.

By now it was obvious to her that the constant complaining and arguing had only served one purpose: Now that the witch was at a loss for words, the tears hiding in her eyes were threatening to come out.

The archer ignored the voice of reason in her head and inched closer to Morrigan, putting one arm around the shoulder of the oh so slender form.

"No..." It was merely a whisper, but the word still stung like one of her daggers.

Feeling guilty, she pulled her arm back, resting it in her lap. Her fingers fumbled with the leather straps of her armor, searching for something to do.

"I did not want this. I did not want any of this." Morrigan was quiet, her voice barely audible.

"I was content to be the Witch of the Wilds, an apostate, a Chasind, a wild animal even. I was not prepared to be a dragon and forget who I am."

Leliana looked up. This was not going the way she had expected it to go. In fact, this was more than she had ever imagined coming from the stoic witch.

"I was a beast. I was fire. I was eternal. And yet I felt myself longing for you." An angry sniffle caught her attention, and Leliana looked up to find golden eyes firmly locked onto her. By the time Morrigan stopped talking, her words were barely more than a whisper, and Leliana strained to understand what she was saying: "Longing for a mortal human. You should have been nothing more than prey, but you captured me in more ways than one. I was yours the moment you stepped out onto the snow."

For a moment Leliana stared at the woman, mouth agape. Then, slowly, the meaning of those simple words rang clear inside her head.

"Morrigan..."

There was no time to think about her options, about what she could say or do in response. Her body and heart did what her mind could not allow to happen.

Lips met hers as gentle as flower petals floating on summer's breeze. One moment she felt them clear as day, and then they were gone. Only to return with much more fervor and passion.

Their lips met and parted with such abandon that the bard soon felt delirious. All of her being seemed to concentrate in that small space surrounding them, taking in every scent, smell and sound as if it were her last. Even freshly bathed, Morrigan smelled of smoke and musk; her scent as strong as if she was a warrior about to leave the battlefield.

Leliana drowned in the heady smell, her nostrils flaring, trying to take it all in, trying to consume everything that was the Witch of the Wilds.

Morrigan's whimpers became louder and more insistent, and the archer couldn't help but notice the effect those tiny sounds had on her. Hot arousal ran through her veins, filling them up in a way that made her feel like they could burst at any given moment.

Bliss.

And then, all of a sudden, Morrigan pushed her away, ignorant of the way the furs shifted to expose her bare chest. Her eyes were hooded and unfocused, but the way she lifted her finger to brush lightly over Leliana's quivering lips left no doubt as to her state of mind.

"I was a fool." A pale hand grasped her neck, almost gently, and pulled her mouth to waiting hot lips. The softness amazed her, and the fast breath of the mage sent shivers down her spine. Again, Morrigan was the one pulling them apart.

"I should have let this happen a long time ago."

When their lips met yet another time, Leliana let go of her fears, and her body seemed to melt into the other woman, furs welcomed her in their warmth and her armor was soon discarded so she could feel Morrigan's skin on hers...

* * *

They were lost in each other's scent and touch, their hands exploring each other's skin languidly, when a sound brought both their heads up.

"Oh." Kaala's usually pale complexion featured two rosy cheeks and parted lips. The tattoo on her forehead was wrinkled and her eyes were even larger than usually.

"I... I ehm... Ididn'twannadisturbyouI'msorryfortheinterruptionI'llbegoingyoutwohavefunbye!"

For a moment Leliana wondered whether she had imagined the scene that had just played out in front of her. But then a throaty chuckle erupted from beneath her, and she couldn't help but join in.  
"'Tis a wonder she stayed alive until now. This creature is more confusing than anyone I have ever encountered." For a moment, Morrigan was silent and stared at the bard in the most curious of ways. Her hands fumbled for the furs, covering herself.

Expecting her to move away, Leliana sat up and tried to mask the pain she was about to feel by straightening her undershirt, searching for something to keep her hands busy. So when Morrigan's slim form inched closer to her, and leaned onto her for comfort, she smiled in surprise.

"I am tired." In response, Leliana put her hand on the mage's head, hoping that small touch would be able to convey what she could not say aloud. She was about to doze off when a sleepy voice reminded her:

"Should you tell anyone about this, about any of this, I shall turn you into an abomination myself." Leliana simply nodded and pulled the furs tighter around their bodies.  
"You shall."

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

"Wake up. ... Leliana. Wake up!"

"Hmmm...?"

"It's Morrigan. We can't find her."


	35. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan wakes up in the middle of the night...

_You are but a puppet, formed to fit my design. **I** am the true power in Ferelden; **I** am immortal. Your life is nothing but a blink of an eye compared to my lifetime._

_Don't resist me, stupid child. I will have need of your body before too long, and there is no escape._

_. . ._

_A dream? Oh dear. This is much more than one of your pathetic nightmares. I am not restricted to this aging clump of flesh you call your mother. I am, and always have been, an idea, an abstract, a form of life you have never seen before and shall never see again. ... until the day I come back to claim that which is rightfully mine. I made you who you are, I made you strong._

_When you were born, you were nothing but a squealing infant, looking for your mother's tit. I infused you with my own magic, I gave you that which saved the Warden at Ostagar, I gave you the fire that burns deep inside your chest._

_“You made me a prisoner in my own body, a helpless creature roaming the wilderness in search for prey. I escaped you once and I shall do it again. I will not end up lost in the Fade, I will resist you; be sure of that, old woman. I am no longer the daughter you raised, the vessel you prepared. I am the Witch of the Wilds reborn. You cannot defeat me.”_

_You ungrateful soul! I made you immortal! Do you not see?! You should be glad I made you who you are! I gave you life, I gave you power! But... if you are so displeased with my present to you, I can just as easily take it away. And I will. Be prepared, child. I am coming for you._

_I am coming for you._

_I am comi..._

_I am..._

* * *

 Eyes fluttering open, Morrigan took in her surroundings. 'Twas rather dark. The fire had burned down almost entirely. The shadows on the far wall looked grotesque and flickered unpredictably.

'Twas the breathing. The regular breathing close to her cheek, which was at fault for her alert state. The bard had tried keeping some amount of distance between them, but it seemed as if Morrigan's sleeping body had made itself comfortable on the rogue. Her arms encircled a linen clad waist, and her head was resting on an entirely too familiar chest.

Freckles greeted her curious gaze, dozens and dozens of them. They seemed to be everywhere, entrapping her in the most innocent way possible. Up until the moment when she realized she had been staring at the gap between Leliana's breasts ever since she woke up.

She resisted the urge to pull away in panic, too great was the chance to wake a slumbering bard. Instead, she slowly extricated her limbs from around and beneath Leliana and pulled away, ever so slowly. Dissatisfied mumbles accompanied her out of the tender embrace. She did not want to leave. She wanted to stay close to that warm body, enjoy the warmth penetrating her skin, protecting her from the cool and moist surroundings.

She was exhausted and entirely shaken from the events of the last few hours; her body felt beaten and fragile, and the cave was pleasantly warm compared to the icy cold outside... But something was drawing her towards the entrance of the cave, a power greater than her unwillingness to go back out into the bitter cold.

Morrigan studied the freckled skin of Leliana’s face, trying to memorize every single detail. There was a fondness in her heart, born from nothingness and reserved only for the sleeping woman. She wondered shortly about how to handle this new development, until the bard whimpered in her sleep, and Morrigan placed a tender kiss on her temple. She knew then that this was not something she could not handle. No. She was the Witch of the Wilds. She could handle anything. If loving another human being was more challenging than facing her mother in battle, then so be it. She was well equipped to deal with both.

She steeled herself for the cold she was about to face, and she silently cursed Leliana for not bringing her any clothes. As it was, she was in no condition to face the storm outside, neither her body nor her mind were prepared for the onslaught of wind and snow and cold. ‘Twas then that she decided she did not care. So she got up, dropping the furs onto the bard; the bard who was busy grasping for her in her sleep. Soft murmurs accompanied searching hands, and Morrigan could foresee the energetic woman waking up. So then she did the only thing she could do:

Placing her hand on Leliana’s forehead, she drained the woman’s energy like Oghren would drain a barrel of wine, leaving only a few drops behind –out of courtesy. Now the redhead was sleeping peacefully, as she had slipped back into the deeper realms of the dreamscape.

The woman would not come to harm, she would simply need to sleep a few hours more. It did not even cross Morrigan’s mind that she could have gone for other energy sources in Leliana. It would not have required any more effort on her part. Stealing the sleeping woman’s life energy would have been an easy feat. And much more fruitful.

* * *

Her companions were asleep. With Kahless present, they hadn't even bothered to designate someone for guard duty. Morrigan smiled. The dog pricked an ear when she walked by, but did not even open his eyes.

'Twas cold out, but the storm -surprisingly- had long passed them. In the distance she could see dark clouds hiding mountain peaks, and she shivered when her body reacted to the memory of freezing skin. It was merely a memory, her body fearing what it had experienced before. She told herself that she was safe. Her magic kept her warm. The magic that she had replenished with the rogue’s energy.

Morrigan walked out into the white, leaving the cave and ruins behind, losing herself in the cold and windy whiteness of the mountains. Looking up into the sky, she remembered flying, she remembered breathing fire, eating whatever prey came her way. Her memory was foggy, foreign. As if she was seeing someone else’s memories before her inner eye. ‘Twas nothing like anything she had ever experienced before.

Being a creature had always had its side effects, depending on how long a time she spent in that creature’s form. The longer she stayed, the more natural it felt, the more it felt like she was _it_. She assumed that the same thing had happened when her mother, the cursed traitor, had forced her into a dragon.

Maybe she had had memories at first, maybe she had recalled her spells and her companions. Maybe she had despised the taste of human flesh. But all she could remember was being at peace, feeling like she belonged in this place. Until the foolish elf had decided to try her luck melding with a dragon; until the Orlesian had helped her doing so and effectively ruined her exile. The sensation of practically melding with the desperate bard had been new and foreign. 'Twas most unsettling. Somehow the woman had accessed Morrigan's own power and freed her from her solitary prison.

A prison she could have never escaped on her own. Had her companions not passed this area, she would have stayed here, not aware that she was little more than a flower ready for picking.

Morrigan growled at the thought. Her mother. Her creator, more like. Angry flames roared up inside of her, ready to burst out. A wicked smile graced her lips. Her magic was returning much faster than she had anticipated. She silently praised herself for borrowing the bard’s energy. She could hardly feel the cold beneath her feet or the wind in the furs.

* * *

_Mother._

_You created me after your own image, you gave me the power to give life or take it away._

_..._

_You have no idea what you have done. I am not one of your precious daughters, willingly sacrificing my own life to prolong yours._

_No._

_I **am** the Witch of the Wilds. I  **am** Morrigan. I will be your undoing._

_I am coming for **you**._

* * *

 As her spreading wings swept up the snow and her roar shook the ruins, she knew she was a dragon again. And for once, her anger had found a home.


	36. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana and the companions discuss what's to be done about Morrigan's sudden disappearance.

_"Wake up. ... Leliana. Wake up!"_

Waking up alone and with a headache was not how Leliana had imagined her morning. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but the possibility of Morrigan leaving had not even crossed her mind. Not after those tender moments they had shared the day before.

_"Hmmm...?"_

Leliana sighed. Maybe the witch had just gone for a stroll, or followed nature's call? Hardly. The slight buzzing in her head left no doubt in her mind as to why she had slept so peacefully. Morrigan had deepened her sleep with a spell. That could only mean one thing: She had left yet again.

_"It's Morrigan. We can't find her."_

* * *

Wynne was fighting with Oghren. Pointing out how dangerous the Witch of the Wilds had become and how blatantly obvious it was that she did not want _any_ of them close. Leliana could feel the mage's eyes burning her from the inside out. She could tell that the old woman knew, and at this moment in time she was ashamed. She had not dared speak up yet. Everyone was arguing over what they should do, and so far the only person defending Morrigan's actions was Kaala. Of course. Her loyalty knew no bounds. The elf was red with anger and Leliana could count the veins on her clenched fists. She wanted to agree, wanted to help, but all she did was stand in the shadows, hugging herself. She felt just as betrayed as the Warden. If not more so.

After Zevran had woken her, Alistair had been the first to speak up and condemn Morrigan’s actions. Then Wynne had joined in, blaming Morrigan's apostate upbringing for her 'behaviour'. She had never pretended to like the Chasind witch, but Leliana hadn’t known that she held her in such low regard.

Oghren had stayed out of it for the most part, merely commenting on the fact that they had darkspawn to kill and an Archdemon to slay. But when Kaala had mentioned their many detours, he had admitted that even he had been the cause for delay at times.

So now he was defending Kaala's stance, telling Wynne to 'shove it where no nugs wander', because he would stay with his friend for as long as she would have him. Even if that meant trying to find a sodding witch.

The longer she watched them, the worse she felt. Her feelings for Morrigan were clouding her judgement, she knew that. But she could not just accept the fact that the witch had left again. She knew they were looking for a dragon now, thanks to Kahless. He had led her outside when she had barely been awake. Human footprints had been left in the snow, and she had followed the trail until it had vanished in a whirly mess and footprints ten times the size. Morrigan had turned again, for a reason yet unknown.

“What do you mean she’s not one of us anymore?!”  
“The last few months we managed fine without that… woman! Now is not the time to run after a rampant dragon!”  
“Is it not?! How many times have we helped strangers, taken tasks upon us that have led us weeks into the wrong direction? Did we not just make a detour to Denerim just so he could talk to his sister?”  
“That was different!”  
“Was it?! A lot of good it did us! … She’s all alone out there, Alistair! There’s no one to hold her hand and help her go through whatever it is she is dealing with!”  
“Who even cares what she is dealing with…”  
“You are such a petulant child!”

“Can you all shut up for a moment!” Leliana’s outburst surprised all of them. But most of all it surprised herself. She had wanted to stay quiet, to hide in the shadows and leave things be. However, she could not. She knew that none of this was her fault, but she could not watch her friends tear each other apart anymore. Something had to be done.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she spoke up:  
“We will not be going after her.”

* * *

* * *

She hadn’t expected for it to be so easy to get rid of them all. Especially Kaala. The little elf had been shocked and adamant enough about going with her to be convincing, but Leliana _knew_. Kaala would not risk their group splitting up entirely to go and wander through the wilderness aimlessly, looking for any sign of dragon activity.

Which was exactly what Leliana was doing at this moment. Leaving the Frostback Mountains behind her, she had made her way towards Redcliffe. With merchants favouring the bigger towns and keeps, she knew word of a dragon roaming the countryside would inevitably find its way to the busy trading center. She had been lucky. Spending one evening in the local tavern had been enough to know she had to go further east. Everyone and their uncle seemed to favor this tavern, which made Leliana think it might be the only one in Redcliffe village. The two men exchanging stories had been so loud, she could have stood in front of the building and overhear the news. As it was, she had been sitting in a dark corner, drowning her sorrows as well as hiding behind a keg of ale.

She had decided to stay on the road leading to Lothering. She did not fear travelling alone, no, on the contrary, it felt quite refreshing to be able to travel at her own speed without having to wait for old women or heavily armored warriors.

* * *

Looking at what was left of the village, she knew something was wrong. The village had been overrun by darkspawn months ago, but there was no sign of the rotten breed anywhere. She should be glad for it, she knew, but she could not help but feel uneasy. Had they just vanquished the village and moved on? She could not believe that so easily.

Making her way through burned down buildings and remnants of what used to be rotting bodies, she hoped her companions fared better. They had decided to go to Orzammar, to beg the king for his help in the fight against the darkspawn. She had wished them luck and then they had parted ways, promising to meet up in Denerim at some point in the future. The Pearl would surely be a place any one of them would be able to find. And should they miss each other, they could always count on Isabela to rely a message.

When she stumbled over a half burned log, Leliana’s focus went back to her surroundings. And her uneasiness. As she wiped some ash off of her leathers, she heard a faint chafing sound coming from what used to be the tavern. She froze. Sliding her daggers from the scabbards, she slowly advanced on the tavern ruins. It was getting dark, but she could clearly see something big move between the darkened stones. Something huge.


	37. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While travelling, Morrigan thinks about the past -and the future.

She could not remember flying to be this tiring. She envied the birds soaring high above her, their light bodies being lifted up by the smallest of gusts. For her, the winds were not favorable today, and keeping her giant body suspended in the air proved to be harder a task than expected.

* * *

After her initial outburst, her anger had carried her a long way: over snow covered hills gleaming in the morning sun, to green forests full of life -their coloured leaves stirring up as she flew overhead. Soon Lake Calenhad was below her, with its fishermen and merchant ships. 'Twas hard not to plunge down and wreak havok, submitting to her current mood.

But then the evening came. And with the setting sun, her rage subsided; exhaustion set in, as well as hunger. The hunt following her descent proved unsuccessful. High pine trees made it impossible to hunt from above, so she tried sneaking up on her prey from behind... However, it did not take long for the noises she caused to alarm any and all residents of the forest to her being there. If she were human, she would have cursed. As it was, she merely growled, scaring the last remaining animals away. Hungry and frustrated, she resigned and laid down to at least get some rest. Her mother would be alive for years -if not centuries- more, which meant that one more day or night of sleep would not be of consequence.

When she woke, most of the following day had already passed and the evening sun just barely showed behind the Frostback Mountains. Her stomach was empty and her mood foul, but at least the night sky would hide her from curious eyes.

During the previous day she had tried to stay away from any roads and towns, but following the coastal line of Lake Calenhad, she had seen a few settlements as well as farms. Which could only mean that they had seen her as well. Humans seemed to be everywhere. Even with a significant distance between them, she knew that the sheer size of her would alert them and after that anyone nearby.

She would have preferred to go unseen. She did not want any of her companions to find out about her plans and follow her to where she was going. Especially not the bard. Leliana was a curious thing, in more ways than one. 'Twas a distinct possibility that she might try and come after her.

Until now, Morrigan had not even thought about the others. Her rage had taken over, consumed her, freed her of all thoughts but one: Flemeth.

The name evoked nothing but anger and disgust. She had always thought that there was more to Flemeth's age and immortality than the old hag had let on. But knowing now that the witch had plans for her body in the future, she could guess at the ways she had prolonged her life in the years before her birth. She did not know how old her 'mother' was, or how many 'daughters' she had had, but she would be sure to find out.

And make her pay for every single one.

* * *

Days and nights blended together. She knew she slept more than she spent time in the air, and sometimes she had barely taken flight before exhaustion and hunger pulled her to the ground again. Food was scarce, and when she saw a lone merchant travel the roads on his ox cart, she was tempted to kill him and the oxen then and there. She resisted the urge, but later that night when her insides seemed to twist and contract in agony, she wished she would have taken his life. One human more or less could not make much of a difference after all the ones she had killed when she had been under Flemeth's spell.

The day after, Morrigan was so exhausted she could barely stand. She rarely moved and slept most of the day, but there was no improvement. Until she gave up on sleeping and just lay there, waiting for the day to pass. Finally exhaustion took over and she slipped into a dreamless state of rest, conserving energy as efficiently as an animal in hibernation. The high elm trees barely hid her sleeping form; purple scales reflected the evening sun in a way that bathed Morrigan's surroundings in a gloomy light, preventing anything and anyone from approaching.

When she awoke days later, she felt less exhausted, but no less hungry. Once the sun set behind the trees, she lunged into the air and travelled further east.

She had not flown for long when she saw a herd of horses roaming in the grass of the Hinterlands. They heard her approach, but it was too late. The horses started running in a panicked canter, merging together in the hopes of staying safe. Coming in from above, it was easy to crush one of the animals with her giant claws, killing it instantly.

She could not remember the last time she had feasted on something as grand as this. The meat was juicy and warm, and dark red blood sweetened the experience. She dug in, revelling in the taste of this fresh kill. Forgotten were her companions, long gone her love for the bard, and even her treacherous mother was driven from her thoughts. Her mind went blank. Survival. 'Twas the only thing worth thinking about.

* * *

Hunting and sleeping, hiding from anyone curious enough to look, she had finally made her way into the parts of Ferelden that looked familiar. Soon Lake Calenhad would be behind her, even now as she was following its small brother east, she knew that Lothering was close. The scents carried towards her by the wind told her she could not be that far from home. 'Twas a bittersweet moment, as were the memories conjured up by her mind. Days long past when she hunted deer with the Chasind while in the shape of a dog, or when her mother instructed her in the basics of magic, teaching her how to conjure up lightning and fire...

Part of her longed for those seemingly perfect moments, but knowing that all of it had been a farce made her wish she could forget rather than remember.

Lost in thought, she was startled when she realized that just a short distance away were the ruins of what had once been called the town of Lothering.

Empty streets and burned down houses spoke of Lothering's not too distant past. Darkspawn of all kinds had overrun the small town in waves of fire and blood. Few buildings could still be recognised; too thorough had been the destruction the Darkspawn had laid upon the unsuspecting town. Not many of its inhabitants had survived even the first wave, as was apparent by the amount of bodies littering the streets and former houses.

Flying overhead, Morrigan had trouble keeping the remains of the small huts apart, the only buildings she recognised were the tavern and the Chantry. The tavern had burned down completely, its second floor having collapsed and burying whatever had been underneath. It surprised her how the mere sight of the tavern affected her in ways she did not comprehend. Her mind conjured up images of Leliana, and she remembered that this was the place she had met the young bard for the first time. Shaking her mighty head, she tried forcing the memories and images from her head, but with minor success. Resigned, she turned her attention towards the Chantry, which had fared only slightly better.

Charcoal black bodies laid huddled together in the Chantry, the only building that had been built with stone. Its remains were darkened, the rooftop gone, but most of its shell had stayed intact. Morrigan decided to make this the place where she would spend the next day, and maybe the following night as well. She did not want to encounter her mother during the night, and she was close enough now to reach her hut in less than a day's time.

As she went down, the gust of wind she produced sent ashes and dust flying, and she felt bones and other things break under her weight. Before she fell asleep, she could feel the dirt settling down on her scales, covering her in a thin layer of ash and dust.


	38. Leliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana decides to investigate the figure she found in the tavern...

Her footsteps were silent and calculated as she stepped closer to the tavern in the light of the low hanging sun. Auburn light filtered through the dirty air of the ruins, only interrupted by wooden beams as black as pitch and a few stones that were left of the foundation.

The figure she had seen just moments ago had pulled back into the maze of destruction, breaking beams and bones alike as it passed through them. Leliana followed, but hesitated as she approached what used to be the porch. This was not a good idea. The heavy footsteps and sheer size of the shadow would deter anyone from following the creature, but her curiosity -and hope- got the better of her, so she carefully navigated through the remains of the tavern she once frequented.

The shadow moved slowly and lazily, and frequently stopped. When it did, so did she, listening to the crunching sounds and laboured breathing of the creature, hoping, praying, begging that it would prove to be Morrigan.

It was not.

It was a bear, easily twice the size of the regular Fereldan ones, which were already of an impressing size to begin with. But maybe... Maybe it  _was_  Morrigan. The witch had often turned into bears of all kinds, who was to say that she would shy away from becoming a giant such as this one?

There was only one way to be sure.

Leliana knew that the chances of finding the witch were low, if not non-existent. But despite knowing so, and regardless of her own doubts, she knocked on a nearby log.

The reaction was instantaneous. The giant head turned towards her and red eyes locked with hers. The old bone the bear had been gnawing on seemed forgotten already. A low rumble erupted from its lungs as the creature advanced on her, stumbling over rocks and smashing whatever was in its way.

There was no way that she could outrun this hungry animal on open ground. Her only escape was to crawl into a space the bear wouldn't fit in, or to find a tree or  _something_  to climb, hoping that the beast would lose interest.

* * *

She tried to think of a place to go, to come up with a crawl space, but even as her mind scrambled to remember, she could feel herself getting desperate. Her movements had become erratic, and she was hitting things left and right, bruising and chafing her skin as she tried to get away from the giant creature on her heels.

This was most definitely not how she usually handled encounters such as this, but at this moment she could not help but feel panicked. As her eyes had met red ones, the disappointment of it not being Morrigan had crushed her to her core. After weeks of her hope building whenever she had heard of a dragon or had seen proof of its existence, it had become a sort of anchor and source of energy for her. Now however it felt like a newly opened wound that needed nursing. What little strength she had had left was gone. Her body felt sluggish and slow, stumbling and crawling as if it had a mind of its own. It wasn't until she felt claws rip open her calf that she realized where she was going. There was no space she could crawl into and be safe, so her legs had carried her to the only place where she could at least try to get away from the creature.

* * *

The Chantry.

Or what was left of it. Most of it was gone, but some wall segments still reached high into the darkening sky. They looked sturdy enough, and Leliana hoped that they would prove to be so, because in the half light of the late evening she couldn't tell for sure.

She stumbled up the small hill to the building, pressed through a hole in the wooden fence surrounding it and started climbing the Chantry wall that was closest to her.

It was an easy climb at first; the corner she was aiming for declined towards the front of the Chantry, where she had started her ascend. Her injured leg slowed her down somewhat, straining under the pressure to keep her weight up. She was glad for the broken stones and rugged surfaces that helped her find her footing in the beginning, but the higher she went the more loose stones she encountered. Finding a safe grip was proving harder and harder in the dimming light.

Looking back proved to be a mistake. The giant figure of the beast had been stopped by the fence for a moment, but she could see it bursting through, and catching up to her with unexpected speed. Its sheer size was almost enough to get her with its claws. Leliana pulled her legs up and scrambled higher up the shattered building, hearing the bear's claws scraping over the stones. She exhaled slowly, trying to focus her mind on getting up the steeper part of the ruined wall.

Even though she was out of reach now, the bear did not give up. Scaling the straight wall would surely be impossible for it, but what if it figured out how to balance on the slim Chantry wall to come after her? She shook her head, physically driving those kinds of thoughts from her mind.

The beast had already drawn blood before, and she was determined to not let that happen again. She stopped for a moment when she felt like she was in a good spot, positioning herself so she wouldn't fall. By the way her leg throbbed she could tell that it was bleeding profusely now. Leliana quickly examined her leg in the half-light, keeping an eye on the grunting bear that still tried to somehow scale the walls vertically. She would get a moment's rest at least, so she could look at her wound.

She grimaced when she felt the gaps in her skin, the wet hot flesh screaming when she inspected it with her bare hands. Cold, trembling fingers followed the wound's pattern, trying to discern how bad it actually was. Judging by the amount of blood, the strike had been strong and deep, her leather pants had ripped and were soaked with blood, as was the fur of her boot. Bandaging her leg was out of the question in this position, she would have to climb just a little higher so she could sit on the flat surface of the wall, where once the roof had been. It would put enough distance between her and the bear so she would feel safe, and maybe even to make the beast forget about her.

Her face twisted in agony when she started climbing again; she forced herself to keep moving despite the pain, scaling the remainder of the wall bit by bit, straining to distribute her weight on her arms and one good leg. It was slow going, and to Leliana it felt like she had been up on this wall forever. But judging by the moon, she had not been up here for long. And surely not long enough for the beast to give up on getting her off this wall.

When she got to the highest point, she was exhausted. She let her body drop onto the flat surface, just to rest for a second. Her face was touching the cold stone walls, and it calmed her down somewhat. The smell of moss and wet stone made her think of old ruins hidden away further south, in the Korcari Wilds. Places she had never been to, but had always been intrigued by. Just like Morrigan. Someone she could never quite figure out, but would always be interested in trying to understand. She let out a deep sigh. Morrigan was always on her mind these days. She closed her eyes and conjured up the image of the woman she had thought so much about in the last few months. Pitch black hair, iridescent golden eyes, a frown to contradict the knowing smile on her lips… Her heart skipped a beat when she thought of the way those lips had felt on hers. The warmth spreading through her helped her relax, and so did the smell of the area. The moss she rested on smelled like Morrigan. Strong and musky and like nature itself. This was a good place to rest.

She was tired. Exhausted. Staying here on this wall sounded like a good idea. Forgotten was the bear and the danger she had been in. Forgotten was the wound and the blood loss. Forgotten was her quest to find the woman she loved. Morrigan was here. She was everywhere. Her smell, her presence, her everything. Lying here for a few moments more couldn't hurt.

Her breaths became deeper, her mind wandered off…

Morrigan…

Just… let me lie here for a while…


	39. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noise is what wakes Morrigan, the smell of blood is what keeps her awake.

The copper smell of blood entered her nostrils; she breathed in, filling her lungs with the sweet scent of vital fluid emanating from something nearby. Some _one_. Her head shot up, nostrils flared, eyes glaring into the twilight of the late evening. She took a deep breath, concentrating on that copper scent. Her eyes turned into slits. Yes. 'Twas most certainly a person. Familiar smells. Human. Female. Neither young nor old. Clad in leathers. Carrying one or more weapons made of Silverite. And judging by the intensity of the copper smell, the human was bleeding profusely. Easy prey. She was about to get up into a crouch to turn around, when she heard the distinct sound of claws on stone coming from her right. How she had missed the scratching before, she was not sure.

Dragons were indeed more famous for their keen eyesight and especially their sense of smell, but to miss something as distinctive as the loud noises coming from behind the wall... 'twas quite disconcerting. She had always prided herself on having a light sleep and being an ostute observer. It seemed like this day proved both of these perceived qualities as lacking.

Huffing, Morrigan turned around: Slowly, steadily, trying not to make a sound for fear of scaring away either bear or human. She sat on her hind legs and lifted her head over the broken wall, and was not disappointed by the sight she found. The bear had partially scaled the wall, digging its long claws deep into the gaps between the single stones of the old Chantry. The only thing keeping it from climbing any faster seemed to be its enormous weight. 'Twas a massive beast, its head easily big enough to crush a human's skull between its jaws. Light brown fur covered the beast's body, which was more prominent around its neck. The sounds it made from time to time were deep and guttural, like a moan from a dying man. She watched it for a moment, observed how the bear kept falling down, yet did not seem willing to give up on its supposed prey. So far, it had not spotted her. The sky was getting darker by the moment, thus it was simple to stay undetected. Morrigan had made sure not to move whenever the desperate creature had looked up towards the human lying nearby. She had not bothered to inspect the woman yet, for she was not moving, and the deep and regular breaths she took had convinced her that she was unconscious. Morrigan would be able to swallow her whole before she even woke.

For the first time since she had been woken by the sweet smell of blood, she felt the hunger inside of her swell until it filled her entirely. Sniffing, she turned her head towards the human, thinking about devouring it, when...

Red hair. Leather clothes. A bow. Silverite scimitars.  ** _Familiar smells_**. She could not believe how foolish she had been. Was this . . .

* * *

Leliana.

* * *

As the realization hit her that this human was indeed her...  _friend_ , her head snapped around to the creature who was most certainly the cause for the human's loss of blood. Her sudden movement had startled the beast, and it looked right into her eyes as she emitted a roar so intense it seemed to shake the rest of the Chantry walls. A massive gust of air pushed the climbing bear down onto the floor, spattered with saliva. Its fur was upright now, and despite surely wanting to run away, it just stood there, staring into her glaring pupils.  _You. Will. Die._ And with that, a burst of flames enveloped the creature, burning off its fur, blinding it as the hot fire torched its eyes. The sound emanating from the bear was as inhuman as it was terrifying. It started screaming and tried running away. Although burning and most likely in terrible pain, it managed to hobble a few paces, before it finally sank to its knees, dead. Morrigan knew she had used an excess of force. Right now, however, she could not seem to care. She stared at the charred body of the majestic animal and felt nothing. Her thoughts were with the stupid human, and with her alone.

Careful not to hurt the woman, she decided to pick her up by her clothes. But her claws had not been made for such delicate tasks, and so she opted to lift up the whole woman by the waist instead. She was surprised to find that Leliana weighed almost nothing, even with her backpack and weapons. Morrigan studied her for a moment, taking in her delicious scent and trying to make sense of the unintelligible words spilling out of the bard's mouth. Leaning over Leliana, she tried to inspect the wound. The size difference and constant stirring made it rather hard for her, however. When the bard had been on the wall, she had been peaceful and quiet. Now, she was moving and complaining, unconsciously pushing Morrigan's head away as it got too close. Morrigan snorted. Clearly the woman did not want to be helped.

She sat back on her hind legs and watched the sleeping redhead. A tenderness washed over her, that she had tried -and successfully so- to surpress for so long. The warmth spreading in her chest felt familiar, welcomed even. In time she would surely learn how to handle her feelings. For now, she would have to stow them away and concentrate on the task at hand: healing Leliana's leg. She was exhausted still, and she knew she would need copious amounts of energy to perform a healing spell -which was not her strong suit-, so she left the Chantry to pick up the bear's carcass. It would provide her with the energy she needed, as well as a decent meal for the bard, she realized. If she had not killed the bear by fire, she would have had something to slip into, since she had no clothes to wear in her human form. But there was no point in basking in regret. She would simply have to find another solution. Even should it entail killing another bear.

After picking up the dead beast, she broke off its legs and put them to the side. Her giant claws and enormous strength allowed her to break its spine and rip the head off with ease. She dropped one half of the body on the ground, the rest she devoured, revelling in the still warm entrails. Whether from her flames or the creature's blood circulation, she did not know nor care.

Transforming back into her human form proved to be harder than she had anticipated. The rage she had felt when she had turned into a dragon had consumed her entire being, had stayed in the back of her mind, always present, however subtle. 'Twas difficult to let that part of her go. But as she looked at the bleeding woman at her feet, she understood that if she did not let go of her anger now, she either never would, or by the time she had, it would cost Leliana her life. So she forced herself to calm down, to push all thoughts  _Flemeth_  from of her mind. Her golden eyes stared at the bard, when suddenly she felt herself engulfed in a purple cloud of flickering magic as she fell to the ground.

She found herself on all fours, exhausted and coughing, as her body adjusted to being human again. Some of her scales had survived the transition and were strewn over what used to be the Chantry's stone floor. The air was thick with tiny specks of her flesh, and Morrigan shook her head, trying to clear her mind as well as her eyes. No other creature she had ever turned into had presented her with such difficulties. Her slender body shook as she got up to stand upright. 'Twas an almost foreign sensation, standing on her own two feet again. Oh how she longed for the power she had felt when she had been a dragon. The incomporable might, despite her hunger and weakened state. Alas, longing for the comfort of her dragon scales would not help her find the strength to heal Leliana.

The evening air was colder than she had expected against her human skin. Perhaps she should have lit a fire before transforming. Even a small flame would be enough to give off a pleasurable warmth. As it was, she was not certain whether she would have enough mana left to build a fire after helping Leliana. Morrigan walked up to the unconscious rogue, shivering as she did. 'Twas not winter yet, but the evenings had become colder with each passing day since she had left the Frostback Mountains. And now, in her human form, she felt the cold encompass her naked body. Her pale skin was covered with goosebumps, and her hands were certainly not the most steady. Despite that, she dropped to her knees next to the redhead, and started to peel off the pieces of Leliana's tough leather pants. Most of what had covered her skin below the right knee was either ripped or gone, and all of it was soaked in blood. One of the bigger slashes had spread up her thigh, exposing thankfully unharmed freckled skin. Morrigan felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Embarrassed, she looked away, only to chastise herself for behaving like a child mere moments later. Finally she concentrated on the task of closing the wound and reached out with her mind. It had indeed bled profusely, and with her magic she could feel why. One of the major bloodvessels had been hurt, and for a brief moment, Morrigan wanted to thank whichever mystical force had led the bard straight to her. Of course the thought alone was ludicrous, and she knew it must have been the bard's influence on her that she thought such things, but whatever had led Leliana to her, it had saved her life.

* * *

As she was sitting by the small fire she had conjured up, Morrigan watched Leliana intently. The young woman had long stopped thrashing and mumbling. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully now that Morrigan had put a light sleeping spell on her. Her calf was still bruised, and her pants were a mess -not that they had looked pretty before-, but the bard would stay alive and be well enough to travel to wherever she needed to go. Morrigan had thought about what the stupid boy was doing here for quite some time now, and despite wanting to arrive at another solution, the only one she could find was that the idiotic Orlesian had followed  _her_. When she had left her companions, she had known that this was a possibility, but nonetheless, she had hoped that she would be proven wrong.  
The lithe bard sleeping opposite of her however, proved her to be just right.

Soon enough Leliana would wake up, and Morrigan was entirely uncertain how to talk to her without pushing her away. 'Twas not that she did not appreciate everything the bard and her companions had done for her -'twas quite the opposite in fact- but words had never been a strength of hers, especially not when it came to the infuriating and lovely woman by her side. She wanted to thank her for being her friend, for standing by her and not giving up. But 'twas excruciatingly painful to think it even, let alone speak it out loud. She ...  _cared_  for Leliana. She did not want to see her hurt. And following Morrigan now would only lead the young woman down a path of destruction that she preferred to go alone. Lost in thought, she had not realized that blue eyes were studying her.

"I see you found my clothes." Leliana's voice was hoarse and her speech slow, but her eyes showed no signs of being sleep ridden. No, they were alert and clear, and filled with sorrow. Morrigan did not have to ask why.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a still ongoing story that originated on FFnet. Decided to upload it here, because why not? ;) My account is otherwise so empty haha.  
> Any and all comments are very much appreciated :)


End file.
